Thrice Betrothed
by Fyrebyrd
Summary: What happens when a small sacrifice for your country becomes the greatest sacrifice you will ever make.
1. Prologue

**The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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"Isabella, wilt though have this man as thy wedded husband, wilt thy love him, and honor him, keep and guard him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband, and forsaking all others on account of him, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?" the priest asks.

Isabella meets the eyes of her intended. "I will," she vows with a tilt of her head.

"Then repeat after me," the priest replies. "I, Isabella, take thee … "

Isabella repeats after the priest, and for her final line, she turns to her betrothed. "And thereto I plight thee my troth."

"By the power vested in me by the holy church, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

The man who now holds her fate in his hands turns to lift her veil.

With a chaste, but gentle kiss, he claims her as his bride.

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 **This fic is set in a time long ago with fictional places. I'm writing and having fun, and will research certain things compared to the Middle Ages, but don't expect me to give you a history lesson. It's based on the story of Tristan and Isolde, which has been around for centuries and has been retold in many ways, but always with the tragic end. If you've seen the movie that was my inspiration, but I will Edward and Bellafy it, and it will not follow that plot exactly, but I think it will have some angst, if I'm capable of producing it lol.**


	2. The Predicament

**The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. Dean Georgaris wrote the script for the movie and any lines used from it are his. (which isn't much)**

 **As always Fran is my polisher. Vampiregirl93, 2browneyes and Michele Deluca Smith preread for me.**

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"The Quileutes have arrived, My Lord," the man addresses Lord Edgar, leading him forth, toward his castle. "As well as the Tacomans, our fellow Portlandians and the Port Angelians."

"Very well," Lord Edgar replies, seeking his wife, Elizabeth, and nine-year-old son, Edward.

Lord Edgar gathers his family and escorts them into his castle to the meeting room. There, his wife joins the other ladies while, his ever-curious son watches the proceedings with great interest.

Lord Edgar stands and produces a tapestry map of Olympia; each land separated with a boundary. "Look at us," he says. "The tribes of Olympia, divided, weak; so that Policia may overrun us. But if we were one land"―he cuts the string and pulls the boundary away―"united, we would outnumber them two to one. We could defeat them once and for all. That is why we are here today, to sign this treaty of unification."

"Who would be king?" Lord Black of Quileute asks.

"The strongest among us," Lord Edgar answers. "Lord Carlisle of Seattle."

Lord Carlisle stands to address the other leaders. "Friends, my wife is with child. My heart tells me it is a boy. I want him to grow old in a land where all of us, all the tribes, are at peace."

"Why should we follow you?" Lord Aro of Tacoma asks.

"Perhaps, because your last attempt to form an alliance with the barons in this room, failed," Carlisle answers him seriously.

As the men haggle and debate the terms of this agreement, unbeknownst to them, King Swan of Policia has made a move. He has been informed of the gathering and has sent his troops to raid the Portland castle in hopes of bringing the lords down and creating chaos among Olympia, leaving it ripe for a takeover.

"The Police are here!" The shouts are heard inside the castle.

Screams echo and panic ensues. Lord Edgar orders his knights to defend the castle, but it is to no avail. The Police troops have already stormed inside. The barons gather their women and children and stand before them ready to defend with their knights forming the front line.

Police troops burst through the door and the fight intensifies. The barons engage in battle and little Edward watches as his father falls. He rages, storming forth with his small sword in hand to attack the nearest intruder.

Lord Carlisle notices and pulls him back. "Son, you need to protect your mother."

He pushes Edward back toward the women in hopes to save him from being cut down. But it proves fruitless when a Police soldier attacks Elizabeth. Edward again charges forth, but he is too late. His mother lays bleeding on the floor, her wound fatal.

Leaning over her prone form, Edward screams, begging his mother to live. When it is clear that she is dead, he stands and fists his sword, once again attempting to charge forth. Lord Carlisle, seeing certain death for the young lad, grabs him and opens the trap door, depositing his body below and enclosing him in darkness.

No matter how hard he fights, Edward is unable to break free. He slumps and waits as blood seeps through the cracks of the floor into his temporary prison. The fighting continues overhead for an unmeasurable amount of time before all falls silent.

When the hatch is lifted again, the smoke from the burning fire reaches Edward. But when he is able to see again, it is Lord Carlisle who peers down at him. "Come, son," he demands, reaching out to assist the young boy.

Edward, stunned and unsure, takes his hand and allows himself to be lifted into the scene of his parents' demise. In his head, he feels rage like no other, and vows that he will make sure King Swan pays for his evil deed of last night.

Carlisle and Lord Black are the only survivors of the ambush. Along with Edward's parents, all other barons and the wives of both men have fallen to the Police army.

9 Years Later

King Carlisle looks on as Edward trains with his knights, an involuntary smile tugging the corners of his lips. Edward has grown to be a fierce warrior for the Seattlitte knights as his skills are second to none. Several men surround him as he parries and twists, avoiding every attempt to be defeated.

Fearing for the young lad, King Carlisle had taken Edward home and kept him under his wing, and although he is only a knight in his army, he is more like a son to the courageous leader. Their bond is strong as Edward is willing to give his life for that of Carlisle, who saved his own.

"Edward," King Carlisle calls, halting the training for the day. "Come." He beckons.

As they stroll through the castle grounds, Lord Carlisle informs Edward of an opportunity to make a play against their enemy. "Lord James has gathered slaves and is transporting them to King Charles. He is a dirty fiend and has already been promised the hand of the princess due to his nefarious acts against Olympia on the king's behalf. Those are Olympian slaves."

Edward listens intently, intrigued by any chance to foil the plans of King Charles. "Would you like me to prevent him from succeeding?"

"I think that would be wise. Assemble the necessary forces," King Carlisle orders.

Edward calls the knights to order and informs them of their mission. Jasper, the king's nephew, and Edward's closest confidante refuses to be left behind. Edward and the small crew of knights form a plan of attack. He, himself, intent on taking down Lord James.

As they ride out at sunset, their spirits are high as this will be an easy ploy, deep in the night. Traveling for days, they make quick work of the ground between them and the caravan of slaves. When they finally catch the trail, they slow their pace as to take full advantage of the ambush.

With swords drawn, the battle cry rings throughout the night.

Caught unaware, men immediately fall at the swords of the Seattlitte knights. Fighting through those that were prepared for the challenge, Edward's eyes scan for any sign of Lord James. He finally spots him, making an attempt to ride away with the cart full of slaves.

Edward maneuvers himself aboard the caravan and knocks Lord James to the ground. Using his spare minutes, Edward quickly breaks the locks to allow the slaves to escape. James, in a fit of rage, attacks. Their swords clash together and a battle wages.

Edward delivers a painful slash along Lord James' arm, causing him to stumble. Moving in for the kill, Edward himself receives a small gash in his thigh. He remains standing to deliver the fatal blow. With Edward's sword through his chest, Lord James falls in his spot, eyes wide in horror.

Edward retrieves his weapon and looks around to see the battle is won. The slaves are free and most of his army is intact. Dead bodies litter the ground and freed Olympian people begin to creep from the shadows, offering their thanks to the brave Seattllitte knights.

Edward begins to grow unsteady, his feet barely able to support his weight. His vision starts to waver, everything blurring. He slumps down to one knee, unable to move forward.

"Edward," Jasper calls, running to his side.

Unable to make out Jasper's face, Edward realizes something is very wrong. His cut is but a minor one, yet his body refuses to cooperate.

"What is wrong?" Jasper questions, kneeling before Edward.

"I … I am not sure," Edward answers, his words already beginning to slur.

"Men," Jasper demands. "Get him to his feet."

As the men attempt to lift Edward, his body goes limp. His breathing has slowed to an unnatural pace and his muscles refuse to obey. It is clear he is fading on this fateful night.

"Jasper." A knight approaches, holding Lord James' sword. "Poison. He has poisoned our beloved leader."

Edward, barely able to comprehend, attempts to speak. "Jas―"

"No, Edward. Do not speak," Jasper soothes, then turns to Edward's men. "Do not just stand around, gather the horses. We must return to the castle immediately!"

The men scatter, attempting to follow orders, but it proves fruitless. Edward loses his battle against the poison Lord James has introduced into his body.

"Edward," Jasper cries, shaking his shoulders. "Edward. No!" His wails ring out into the night.

His beloved leader and closest friend has succumbed to the poison.

AGE

On the passage home, the knights make their way to the sea. Edward was a strong, brave man and shall have a fitting burial. Placing his body in a small boat and adorning it with his Earthly wares, they reverently honor their fallen leader.

"Edward was a brave knight and will never be forgotten. His courage and skill were rivaled by none. We release his Earthly body to the sea," Jasper sermonizes as they push the small craft into the water.

Archers stand on the cliffs above with lighted arrows at the ready. As the boat floats away into the sea, they release, causing the smoke to rise as the flora ignites. A burial at sea, fit for a king.

Returning home, Jasper is left to deliver the sad news to his beloved uncle. The drawbridge lifts, allowing their entrance as the people of Seattle line the path. Their brave knights have returned.

King Carlisle waits at the castle eager to hear from Edward and the tales of his defeat. Only it is not Edward who approaches, but Jasper, wearing a forlorn expression.

He kneels before his King. "My Lord."

"On your feet, Jasper," the king commands. "Where is Edward?"

Jasper bows his head. "I am sorry, My Lord."

"He … he did not make it?" Carlisle questions, stunned.

Jasper meets his eyes, and by the torment there, Carlisle has his answer.

AGE

"I cannot believe my father has promised me to that despicable man!" Isabella rages to her maid, Angela, as they take their daily walk along the beach. "He is a vile creature who means to beat me into submission."

"My Lady," Angela says, linking their arms. "I do not know what your father is thinking. Lord James is disgusting. Have you tried to plead with the King?"

"Charles does not care for his daughter. He only cares for his political gains. Lord James is off now, enslaving people of Olympia for my father's uses." Isabella is obviously bitter at what she feels is her father's betrayal.

Ever since her mother passed, her father has become distant and cold, his only goal to overthrow Olympia and bring it under his reign. And Lord James has offered to assist in that task, making him a very important man in her father's eyes.

"There, there, Isabella. Maybe he will fall in battle," Angela tries to assuage the fears of her fretful princess.

"Lord James is a dastardly man and a strong fighter. My father trusts him to lead his army," Isabella whines.

The women continue to walk in silence, each lost in their own thoughts of the future looming before them. Angela will follow her princess anywhere, but she will hate to see her in the clutches of a man such as Lord James.

Isabella's feet still, bringing both ladies to a sudden stop. "Look, Angela. There is a boat."

Angela takes in the view of the small craft lodged on the beach further down. She begins shaking her head at the immediate gleam in her princess' eye. "No, My Lady. We cannot explore. We do not know who left it there."

Already pulling Angela along, Isabella moves forward. "We will just take a peek. Maybe we can tell who it belongs to."

"We should return to the castle and inform the king," Angela pleads with her ever curious princess.

"Maybe it is an attempt to overthrow him. I would not warn him if so. He has deserted me, promised me to wed Lord James. He does not have my loyalties any longer," Isabella says defiantly.

By this point, the ladies are so close to the craft that they can see it appears to have crashed ashore. The edges charred as if it were once afire. Slowly approaching, Isabella gasps as she discovers a man lying inside.

She lifts her skirts and runs to drop down beside the small craft. "Come, Angela. We must see if he is still alive."

Angela, fearing for her princess' safety, follows behind quickly even though she wishes Isabella would listen to her and retreat back to the castle. Acting swiftly to protect Isabella in the event of a trap, Angela drops down between her princess and the prone form of the man. Leaning forth, she places her fingers to his neck. A light pulse reflects through her fingertips.

"He is alive, but barely," she addresses the princess.

"We must try and wake him," Isabella announces.

Angela stands and turns to Isabella. "My Lady, we must leave. He could be the enemy. He may mean to harm us."

Isabella takes in the form lying before her. The man has a mop of unruly brown hair with wisps of gold and red reflecting in the sun's rays. His features are strong and sharp, with his jaw jutting out to form a perfectly angular appearance. Even in his present state of unconsciousness, he is a stunning specimen.

"Angela, he is upon his death bed, he clearly cannot do any harm in this condition," Isabella states, waving her hands over the man. Her mind has already decided; she and Angela will assist him forthright.

"What would you have us do, My Lady?" Angela asks bewildered that her princess intends to assist a stranger.

Isabella places her finger on her chin and ponders for a moment before her eyes widen with excitement gleaming from their depths. "The old hut!"

"But, My Lady, how are we to move him there. Surely he is too heavy for us to carry," Angela reasons, hoping Isabella will agree and return to the castle.

Isabella, refusing to back down, looks around and spots a bare piece of wood a little further down the beach. "Simple. We will roll his body onto that board and pull it with rope," she says pointing while Angela looks on with disbelieving eyes.

"My Lady, you cannot be serious," Angela chastises. "There is no way we will be able to move this man."

Before they can argue further, a groan erupts from the lips of said man. In order to deter her princess from advancing, Angela kneels beside him again. "Sir, can you hear me?" she asks while lightly slapping his cheeks.

His answering mumble is the only response.

Pushing Angela aside, Isabella leans over him, gently rubbing the sand from his face. "Hello. Hello," she says attempting to coach his eyes open. "Can you hear me? I am trying to help, but we must get you moved."

Slowly, his eyes slide open and Isabella is met with the greenest green she has ever laid eyes upon, and that is saying a lot for her home is filled with sprawling green fields and towering green trees. But this green, it is stunning in its depth of color while still shining brightly as if lit from within.

"Can you hear me?" she asks the green-eyed man.

His eyes roll, but he fights to keep them upon the angel's face. With what he thinks is a nod, the man attempts to communicate.

"Can you sit up?" Isabella asks, her hands upon his shoulders, pulling him forward.

Putting forth as much effort as he can, the man assists Isabella in her efforts. Once he is sitting upright, his eyes attempt to close again.

"No, please, you must help us by staying awake if you wish to be well," Isabella pleads with the stranger.

"Angela, please," she says to her maid. "Assist me to help him stand."

It is a hard fought battle for the threesome, but between the two women under his arms and his stumbly feet, they make their way down the beach with slow, sure progress. The man is drifting in and out, but fights to keep his feet moving forth.

Finally, they arrive at the hut that is almost buried by new sand blown and settled around the structure's small wooden form. Leaning the man against the wall, Angela moves to try and pry open the old door. After much digging, it finally creaks open and she hurries to assist Isabella to move the man inside.

Upon closer inspection of the mysterious stranger; Isabella discovers a gash on his thigh. "You can smell the poison," she declares.

Sensing immediately what must be done; she rips the man's tattered shirt from his body and then strips herself naked. "He needs warmth! Strip you clothes," she orders Angela as she rolls him to the side and covers his back with her body, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing briskly. "When he is warm he will need thistle and bark."

Angela hesitantly disrobes and scoots her now naked body to the front of the strange man. "I have not been naked with a man in over fifteen years," she offhandedly remarks.

In no position to enjoy or even realize his predicament, the man's body begins to warm. The women lay for countless minutes with him sandwiched between their naked flesh. When it is clear that his heat has returned, Isabella begins pondering her next move.

"Angela, we will need supplies," Isabella urges. "Please, can you return to the castle and retrieve them?"

"My Lady, what if I am seen without you?" Angela asks, pleading with her eyes for the princess to show rationale.

Isabella, unconcerned for her own wellbeing, sits up and takes on an authoritative air. "Angela, this man has been poisoned. We cannot just look the other way, he needs our help."

With shoulders slumped in defeat, Angela gets up and begins to redress. "Very well, My Lady. What shall I gather?"

Isabella leans over the man and studies him carefully. "He will need blankets and sustenance for now along with some thistle and bark for the poisoning. This wound on his thigh is also infected. Fresh bandages and salve should help with that. After he has returned to his senses, we can bring him clean clothes. Now please, hurry, time is of the essence."

Isabella rushes Angela from the hut and resumes her warming attempts. Rubbing his brow, she speaks lowly in a one-sided conversation. "I wonder what has happened that brought you here, how did you befall this gruesome fate? You can rest easy, though, for I will do my very best to return you to your former strength."

A groan escapes the man's lips and his eyes slide open to lock on the brown of the angel peering back at him. He attempts to speak, but cannot. "Shh," the angel shushes, continuing to rub his brow. "Do not try to speak, it will only serve to weaken you further."

Feeling the contentment of her words, the man allows his eyes to fall shut once more.

Isabella's mind races, unsure why this man and his fate seem so important to her. She feels compelled to help him but does not understand why the need is so strong. It burns inside her, refusing to listen to rationale. She knows not who he is or where he is from, but she knows he is not her enemy.

She feels this with every fiber of her being.

AGE

The days pass and Isabella spends as much time with the stranger as possible. Angela, refusing to abandon her princess, also assists, even though it is against her better judgment.

"Isabella," Angela says dragging her attention from the sweating, half-naked man. "He is healing, his fever has broken. He should wake soon." She approaches her princess with a determined set to her jaw. "You mustn't tell him who you are."

"Look at him, Angela. He is no threat to me," Isabella argues.

"We do not know who he is or where he is from," Angela retorts, her voice firm. "He cannot know you are the princess of Policia. I forbid it!"

Although Isabella understands what her maid is suggesting, she still does not think this man means her harm. "Fine," she consents. "I shall not tell him who I truly am. Does that please you?"

Angela allows the tension to release from her stance. "It does please me. Although I would be more pleased if we left him to his own devices before he awakens." She knows her princess has no intentions of abandoning the mysterious man, but she is at least speaking her thoughts.

"I cannot," Isabella declares.

"Very well, My Lady." Angela nods her assent. "I will return to the castle and fetch him some fresh clothing for when he awakens." Lifting her skirts, she exits the small hut and makes her way down the beach.

Isabella stokes the roaring fire and goes to sit beside the one who has commanded her attention. "How did you land upon my shore?" she ponders aloud.

A groan is her answering reply. She moves closer, rubbing a damp cloth over his forehead. The man's eyes slowly open and search the room before focusing on her face.

"Hello," Isabella addresses him. "You've been sleeping a long time. You are in Policia." The man moves his head at this news, but he does not speak. "Tis all right, you are safe here. No one knows, don't be scared. Just sleep."

His vision fades once more and blackness overcomes him.

AGE

Two more days pass before he opens his eyes again. He is alone and coherent enough to determine he may be in danger. Hearing hoofbeats outside, he jumps up and grabs the first weapon he can find. A rock aside the roaring fire.

He is still weakened from the poison, but will fight with all his might if need be. Getting into position, he awaits as the door creaks open and a lone figure steps through, shrouded in a cape. When she removes the hood from her head, she begins screaming as she takes in the man prepared to attack.

Another figure rushes inside. "It is all right. She means you no harm," Isabella informs the confused man.

He slowly loosens his grip on the rock but does not allow it to fall.

"I shall wait outside with the other beasts," Angela declares, her eyes boring into the man.

Upon her exit, he speaks his first words. "You said no one else knew I was here."

"I am sorry. She is my maid, sworn to silence. She has been helping me to heal you, although against her better judgment," Isabella soothes, hoping he can hear the sincerity of her words. "Would you please lie down?"

When he makes no move, she approaches him slowly. Keeping eye contact, she begins to straighten the spot upon which he was lying. "I am pleased that you remember my words. But I need to check your wound." She gestures to the cot.

Deciding that this small woman is no threat to his person, he follows her directions and allows her to continue her healing duties. After all, he is alive because of her care

Carefully unwinding the bandage, Isabella attempts to make conversation. "This may hurt," she says, glancing at his eyes. "Do you remember anything else? The boat I found you in? How you received this wound?" When he makes no move to speak, she shakes her head. "Too many questions. I am sorry."

She finishes her task and stands. "Here are clothes and bread, the ocean is outside if you wish to take a bath. You will not know where you are going, so please do not attempt to leave."

The man has been studying her this whole time, wondering why a beauty such as herself would attempt to save a strange man she knows nothing of. As she turns to leave the small enclosure, he finally speaks. "Why are you doing this?"

Stealthily avoiding his question, she says, "I'll be back." She then exits through the door from which she entered.

Joining Angela at their horses, she cheerfully climbs atop her mount. "This is a dangerous game you are playing," Angela warns. "He is Olympian no less."

Isabella smiles cheekily and brushes off her maid's concerns. "Then we have him prisoner."

Upon arrival back to her quarters, Isabella is shocked when her father, King Charles, appears at her door. "You have been away."

"Only on my daily stroll among the nearby grounds," Isabella replies, attempting to avoid her father's eyes.

"You would do well to make your presence known. Your betrothed is due back," Charles suggests, although it is more of a demand.

"Any word on his arrival?" Isabella asks.

"Overdue," Charles replies. "But I will inform him of your yearning." He meets her eyes defiantly before turning to exit her room.

She sinks to the bed, defeated.

AGE

The next day, Isabella sneaks from the castle grounds alone. She makes the journey, and when she arrives, her eyes feast upon the naked form in the ocean before her. She cannot help herself from noticing the defined lines of his abdominal muscles as he lifts his hands to throw water over his head. The lean lines of his arms do not escape her notice either.

When he shifts to return to the shore, he sees that he has a voyeur. Not at all displeased with this matter, he brazenly stalks forth, revealing his full naked glory to Isabella. She remains stunned in her spot, her eyes unable to leave his form.

He approaches her. "Do your eyes enjoy their feast upon my body?" he questions in a low, seductive voice.

Isabella, unashamed that she has been caught, allows her eyes to run down his form once more. "They do."

Impressed by her bold manner, the man breaks into a carefree laugh. "What?" she demands. "Do you find humor in my words?"

Reining in his laughter, the man's green eyes burn into her own brown. "I do not, fair maiden. You surprise me with your bold words."

Satisfied with his response, Isabella lifts her chin. "Very well. Shall I tend to your wound?" Her eyes unintentionally flick back down to his thigh.

With brows raised, the man motions for her to precede him. "After you."

Entering the confined space, Isabella busies herself with readying the salve while the man takes his position upon the cot. When she turns to go to him, fresh bandages in hand, she is brought up short to realize he has made no attempt to clothe himself.

"Are you always this free with your body?" she questions.

Taking in her unsure form, he studies her more carefully, wondering what may be hidden by the frumpy gown that encases her body. Her face, though, can only be described as angelic. A halo of mahogany hair frames her delicate features, and brown, inquisitive eyes peer back into his green.

"I have nothing to hide. You have saved my life, for I was left for dead. Besides, this makes the care of my wound easier, does it not?" he asks.

Deciding he does not seek an answer, Isabella approaches and kneels beside him. "This may sting," she soothes as she runs the salve over his wound. He does not react to her ministrations. Once she is pleased, she covers the wound with fresh rags.

As she begins to pull her hands away, the still naked man stops them with his own. "What is your name?"

Isabella, feeling the pressure of her maid's request, refuses to impart with that information. "I think it is better if we do not bother with names."

"How may I thank you if I do not know your name?" he asks sincerely, rubbing circles upon her hands.

"You just did," she replies and pulls away to create space between them. The weight of the moment too heavy for her to bear. The silence of the space is deafening as the man studies her, wondering what she may be hiding.

"Please," he beseeches.

Clearing her throat, she moves to cover his lower half. "My name is Bella. I am a lady in waiting at the court. My parents are dead, but my mother is who you may thank for the kindness I am bestowing upon you. My father would have left you where you fell."

"Edward of Seattle, formerly of Portland," he replies, seemingly pleased with her acquiescence. "And you, my fair Bella, are an angel."

"Well, Edward of Seattle, I would gush about you too, but I fear I have already seen everything," she says, her eyes scanning over his body, a smile gracing her lips.

Just then, the door opens and Angela interrupts. Seeing that Edward is alive and well, she offers some sage advice. "I hope you appreciate the risks we are taking and will honor us by leaving as soon as you are able." She throws the items she was carrying down and exits.

Edward then looks to Bella. "She likes me," he says with a twinkle in his eye before turning more serious. "She is right. You do risk much by harboring me."

Bella gets lost in the green of his stare for one moment before responding. "What of your parents?" she asks attempting to change the subject.

"They also perished when I was a child," Edward replies solemnly.

"From what?" Bella questions.

"A different type of Police kindness," Edward replies and Bella is unable to miss the bite to his words.

"I am sorry," Bella whispers, ashamed of her country, and more specifically, her father's nefarious deeds.

Silence settles over them after her quiet apology, but it does not stop their eyes from searching the other, each questioning themselves as to why they feel a draw. Him, pondering why this angel chose to save him, an enemy of her country. Her, wondering how she could feel as such over a forbidden man, especially since she is betrothed to another.

Edward ever so slowly lifts his hand, attempting to cup her cheek, but with measured grace, she removes herself from his reach. "I am sorry," he apologizes, he himself not sure what was going through his head.

"Tis all right," Bella replies, refusing to look upon his form. "I shall return tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Edward repeats as she disappears from his view.

AGE

The days pass and Edward's wounds improve, as does his appreciation for the fair Bella. She has treated him kinder than any other, aside from his King, who must be in anguish over his supposed death. His days here are coming to an end and with it, his time with his angel.

When she enters this day, it is with a smile gracing her lips. His own lights to match. "I have brought something to pass the time," she declares, holding up the bible.

"Will you read to me?" he asks, playfully.

"Can you not read?" she replies with a cheeky smirk.

His eyes bore into her. "I can, but it would be more pleasurous to hear the words spill forth from your lips."

Smiling almost shyly at his compliment, Bella fills her usual spot at his side and begins reading. She chooses a passage from Solomon.

 _Set me as a seal upon your heart,_

 _As a seal upon your arm;_

 _For love is as strong as death,_

Edward interrupts, pushing the book away so he may see her face. "Ridiculous."

"I happen to believe the passage. Do you not think there's more to life?" she questions curiously.

"More to life than what?"

"Something more than war and death. Why be capable of feelings were we are not meant to have them? Why long for things if they are not meant to be ours?" she ponders aloud.

Edward studies her in the light of the fire, wondering how they could believe so differently. He is a warrior, love has never before been a consideration. But as he repeats her words in his mind, he must wonder if it is now.

"Listen to me," Bella chides herself. "You are so sure of things. Your certainty is like armor. I wish I had that."

"Why would you need it?" Edward asks hoping to glean what she means.

"The joy of being a lady." She meets his green eyes. "Wanting something I cannot have. A life of my own."

At that moment, Angela disturbs them. "We must leave, My Lady."

"I will follow you shortly," Bella replies, brushing her off in hopes of spending more time with Edward.

Angela refuses to back down this time. "You need your rest in case your betrothed wants to see you when he returns." With those hurtful parting words, Angela retreats outside to wait for her princess.

Bella, feeling embarrassed and heartbroken, stands and exits without another word.

Edward's eyes bore into her form until she is out of sight.

He spends a restless night; the maid's parting words burn through his mind, creating an unknown feeling in the pit of his gut.

The following morning, fearful she may not return, Edward sits upon the knoll watching for her to come down the beach. His whole being settles once he notices her arrival. Jumping down, he runs to greet her.

Standing before her, he allows a smile to form on his lips. "I am pleased you returned."

Bella's eyes widen. "I am sorry if you thought I would not. I will not desert you, although you barely require my assistance."

"Come." Edward motions down the beach. "Let us walk."

After several moments, when neither of them have spoken, Edward finally breaks the silence. "So you are betrothed to another?"

Bella closes her eyes for a second, allowing herself to process his bold question. "I am," she finally agrees.

"Tell me about him," Edward demands.

"He is a bear of a man who is the opposite of a gentleman," she responds, looking out to study the ocean.

"I thought when you spoke of wanting something you cannot have―"

"I did not know what I was speaking of," Bella interrupts, lifting her skirts and walking away from him quickly.

Allowing her time to calm down, Edward leisurely makes his way back to the hut. When he enters, he can clearly see the wetness in her eyes, but she does not give him time to speak.

"Down the beach, past the next curve, there is a boat. That is how you should go when you leave. It will afford you safe passage home," she says, avoiding his eyes. "It should be soon."

She promptly pushes her way past and leaves him standing there, not knowing how to process the ache that resides in his chest. Realizing that she is the reason for his pain, he turns and races out to catch her. Seeing her form on the beach before him, brings a joy he does not understand. Moving forth at a rapid pace, he rushes to take her in his arms.

She spins as he nears, bursting forth, relieved to see him approaching. Filling his arms, she stares into his eyes and watches as they glance to her lips as he leans closer. Swallowing heavily, she pushes forward, pressing her lips to his. Strong arms wrap to hold her close as their lips twist and taste. Slowly, his tongue peeks out and coaxes her mouth open, she complies readily.

The first touch of tongue meeting tongue is a strange sensation, but one Bella finds pleasing, desirous even. Her body moves of its own accord, as if it has performed this act countless times, when in fact, she has never even been held by a man, much less kissed.

So lost is she in the feel of Edward, she is left slightly befuddled when she realizes his lips are no longer upon hers. Slowly, she opens her eyes to take in the magnetic green which is peering down to her. Feeling ashamed of her actions, she focuses on the sand beneath her feet.

Warm fingers grasp her chin and force her eyes back to his. "Do not look away from me, Bella," Edward says in a soft but commanding voice. "You need not be ashamed of you passion. It is a glorious sight to behold."

Fluttering her lashes, Bella cannot help but be enamored by his words. "But I should not," she declares. "I belong to another although that is not my wish."

"But did you not wish to be in control of your own fate?" Edward asks softly, cupping her cheeks between his palms. "Leave with me." There is an urgency to his words that Bella recognizes all too well.

Their time together is counting down.

"I do not see how that is possible, Edward." She yanks her chin from his grasp and turns away, afraid he may see the indecision in her eyes. For she wants that so very much, but she cannot have it. She is not a simple lady of the court, but the Princess of Policia; controlled by her father to do with as he pleases. Running away to Olympia would only give cause to declare war. She cannot be the reason for Olympia's downfall.

Edward's body moves closer, his hand placing her hair to one side so his lips may make contact with her neck. "Anything is possible, Bella. You must want it to be so."

Bella closes her eyes and tries to ignore the burning in the pit of her stomach both his words and actions bring forth. "I am not allowed to want. I am but a woman in a world dominated by men." She snatches away and turns to Edward with fire in her eyes. "Ruled by men. I am but a pawn, used by men of power. I have no choice in the matter. Choosing to save you was my one selfish act and I revel in your life. Go back to your land and forget me." Her fists grip his tunic tightly as she finishes her passionate speech.

Edward's hands close over hers and very carefully, he works to loosen her grip. When he proves successful, he remains holding one hand, but turns to guide them back toward the hut. "I may return to my land, but forget you, I will not," he declares.

She gasps and turns to him. "I will not forget you either. You will live here"―she places her free hand over her heart―"long after you depart."

Still unsure about such declarations, Edward chooses to remain silent. Once inside the hut, he takes his usual seat on his cot, patting the space beside him in hopes that she may stay a while longer. The uncertainty that passes over her face brings him pause.

"I must return before I am missed," she finally says, refusing to take his offering. "Angela is surely worried about me."

"Very well," Edward agrees. "Will I see you again?"

The stabbing pain in his chest as he speaks tells him all that he needs to know. He has become dependent on the presence of this woman. So dependent that the very thought she may not return physically hurts.

"I shall not abandon you, Edward," she says already walking to the door. "Tomorrow." She disappears from his sight.

Edward pushes out a large gust of air to dispel the emotions running rampant through him and lies back, resting his head upon his hands. His thoughts roam from his homeland to his King but always fall back to the beauty who saved him.

What must it be like to live in her shoes with no choices as men decide her fate? She could leave with him and be free of that burden, but what kind of life could he provide? He is a warrior. A man who will fight for his country no matter the cost. What could he truly offer her but a home without his presence? Would he choose to fight no more?

No, he would not.

AGE

The following morning, Edward is up with the sun and already on the beach. Noticing small shells lining the sand, an idea comes to mind. Gathering as many as possible, he returns to the small space that is already confining him.

Working tediously, he uses a piece of twine and lines the shells in a row to make a gift for Bella. Something she may remember him by when he is gone. When he hears her approach, he hides his masterpiece so that he may finish another time.

Seeing her beauty as she enters, the damp, confined space suddenly feels brand new. The room takes on a glow when she is inside. Dimming it slightly, though, is the presence of her maid who enters behind her.

"Good morning, Edward," Bella says brightly. "We have brought you bread."

Edward cannot help but return her smile. It is as if his cheek muscles are involuntarily connected to hers. "Morning, Bella, Angela," he greets with the slight tilt of his head, eagerly accepting the bread and ale she is offering.

"I see you are fit again," Angela notes, her discerning eyes scour him as he scarfs down the meal.

Not put off by her not so subtle hints, Edward simply smiles at her. "I shall be making my departure soon, Angela. I am sure this will please you."

"It shall." She gives him a deft nod and turns to her princess. "I will wait outside for you."

"No, you must return. I promise I will not stay long," Bella assures, hoping Angela will allow her to spend every precious minute with Edward.

Although Angela wishes to protest heavily, she knows Isabella will soon be wed to a ghastly man. These simple moments will have to carry her through the rest of her life. "Very well, My Lady."

Upon her exit, Edward wastes no time in extending his hand, praying that Bella will be receiving of his offer. When she recognizes the gesture, her lips curve upward once more. Eagerly, she accepts his offer and allows herself to be pulled to sit next to him.

The two lock eyes and it is as if a silent conversation is taking place. No words need to be spoken, their body language and facial expressions tell the other so much already. Each is pleased to be in the presence of the other.

Slowly, Edward lifts his hand to cup her cheek and not only does she allow it this time, but she also leans into him, filled by the warmth of his touch. "I do not have much longer here," he says quietly, his eyes hold the burden of his words.

Bella closes her eyes and savors his touch before allowing the melancholy of his words to seep into her. "You do not," she agrees. "A few days, perhaps." She opens her eyes and focuses on his green. "Will you think of me after you are gone? Or shall you leave with no more thoughts of me or this place?"

Edward presses forward, leaning their foreheads together. "I shall not forget you. I cannot. Aside from saving my life, you have given me something more. Something I did not ever hope to feel." His lips push forward to savor her taste, to commit it to memory.

She eagerly responds, unafraid of his bold moves and only wanting to further their connection. This time, it is her tongue that reaches out, seeking the flesh of his mouth. Sensations shoot to unspoken places as she finds herself lost in his touch.

Strong arms encase her and begin a slow descent down her back and up to brush her breasts. The shivers race across her skin. Snatching her lips from his, she stands.

Edward can only stare in apprehension and wonder. Afraid he has gone too far, but praying he has not. He is in a trance, awaiting to see what she may do. After countless moments, Bella's decision is made.

She turns her back to him and just as his shoulders deflate, she speaks. "Could you unlace my corset?"

Completely enraptured with the woman before him, Edward stands and moves his hands to her shoulders, placing her hair to one side. After a gentle caress from his lips, he whispers, "Are you sure, Bella?" He places another languid, opened mouth kiss to her skin. "This cannot be taken back."

Her head lolls back so she may make eye contact. "I am sure, Edward."

Recognizing the commitment in her expression, Edward unlaces her gown and slowly pulls the shoulders free, allowing the dress to fall to a heap at their feet. Grabbing her shoulders, he turns her to face him.

Through the thin material of her shift, Edward can already see her pert buds raised in anticipation. Slowly, he allows his hands to guide down, his palms brushing slightly against the peaks. Bella, feeling a fire from within, reaches forth and starts removing his tunic.

He grabs her hands between his. "Are you sure, Bella?" he demands.

Her eyes snap to his and instead of answering, she steps forth, her almost bare chest pressing into his. Reaching up, she grabs the nape of his neck and pulls his lips to hers for a fierce and possessive kiss. When she is done, there are no more questions.

The two lovers join their bodies together in an act of passion so unbridled, they are both left wondering if they will ever be graced with such pleasures again.

AGE

Later that evening, Isabella returns to the castle. There is a hum about; something is amiss. As soon as she sneaks into her room, Angela runs to her. "My Lady," she says, the relief evident.

Returning the unusual affection of her maid, Isabella can only wonder what has happened. Pulling away, she addresses Angela, "What is it? What has you so out of sorts?"

Angela calms her breathing. "Lord James," she utters. "He has been slain."

"What?" Isabella asks shocked, but also elated no matter the cause.

"My Lady," Angela says sternly, gripping Isabella's shoulders tightly. "He was murdered and his body sent back as a message."

Isabella, seeing no reason to care how Lord James ended up dead, brushes Angela's determination aside. "I do not care how he was murdered, just that he was." She grabs her maid's arms and laughs. "Do you not see? I am free from his hold."

Angela gives her a slight shake, insisting that Isabella hear her out. "He was murdered by Edward Masen of Seattle."

Instead of having the effect Angela desired, Isabella smiles even more. "Edward killed Lord James?" she asks in astonishment. "He saved me before I ever had the opportunity to save him."

"You are not concerned whatsoever?" Angela asks. "You will be hanged if he is found!"

"He shall return home soon," Isabella assures her frazzled maid.

Tired and more fulfilled than she has ever felt, Isabella falls into bed and sleeps the best she has in years.

Upon waking, she goes to breakfast with her father where she is told the heartbreaking news of her betrothed. Using that to her advantage, she retires to her room to grieve alone.

When sufficient time has passed, she sneaks from the castle to see Edward. For fear that he may realize who she is, she cannot share what she has learned, but she can bestow upon him her gratefulness. So lost is she in her excitement, that she almost misses the chatter about the castle grounds.

Slowing her pace as to overhear a conversation, she learns the worst possible news. Edward's charred boat has been discovered and they are seeking the intruder. Thankful they do not know who he is, she hastily makes her way, praying he is still safe.

When Bella enters the hut, her shoulders slump in relief to see his form before her. Instead of giving into her desire to be wrapped in his arms, she scurries to him with a franticness he does not understand.

"Are you hurt?" Edward asks already searching her for a wound.

Bella shrugs him off. "It is not me I am concerned with." She grabs onto his tunic, making a desperate plea. "You must go. They are searching for an intruder. Your boat has been discovered."

Although Edward knew this moment was coming, he cannot fight the wave of dread that flows through his blood upon hearing the words from her lips. Curling the gift he was about to present tighter inside his fist, he places a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

"Come," Bella stresses, grabbing his tunic and pulling him from the hut. "There is no time to waste."

Edward has no choice but to follow behind, the dread turning to determination as he considers the fate Bella may suffer if her treachery were to be discovered. Making their way down the beach, Bella finally stops and begins to uncover a craft hidden by brush.

"Help me," she pleads with Edward, who is standing struck still by the enormity of this moment.

Snapping from his trance, he clears the bracken away in no time and pulls the boat to the shoreline. Unable to leave without attempting to persuade her once more, he goes to her. "Bella, please, leave with me." His voice is gravelly with emotion and his eyes beg her to agree even though he knows he may not be able to give all of himself.

Bella steps closer, gripping his face gently between her hands. "I cannot leave. Please know that if I could, I would." A smile graces her lips at the memory of Lord James demise. "Carry me with you"―she places her hand over his heart―"here. Always."

Edward grips her hand tighter to him. "Always," he repeats, tying the seashell bracelet around her wrist. "To remember me by." He immediately moves away and begins pushing the craft out to sea.

When he is sufficiently afloat, he jumps aboard only to realize she has followed. "Bella, go. You must not be caught near me. Hurry!"

Refusing his words, she makes her way beside him. Their lips meet for one more passionate kiss before he drifts away from her reach to be lost to her forever.

AGE

After a long journey by sea where Edward finally lands upon Olympian soil, he is worn, but intent on making it back to Seattle. Stealing a horse is his only option. He chooses a sturdy young mare and makes note of his location so he may return her safely or pay the required price.

His voyage is long and tiresome, but he refuses to stop, traveling two days straight. By the time he arrives at the castle gates, people are already running beside him, whispers of his return from the dead are spreading like wildfire.

A procession guides him to the castle, where Jasper comes running out with wide eyes. "Edward," he whispers, barely audible even in the silence that surrounds them. "Is it really you?"

"It is," Edward replies with a nod and dismounts from his horse, going to his brother for all intents and purposes.

Jasper does not hold back, he throws his arms wide, encasing Edward inside with a hug like no other. Over his shoulder, Edward's eyes land upon his king. Carlisle is standing at the castle door, seemingly stunned in his spot.

With a quick shake of his head, Carlisle's feet start forward. Edward breaks from Jasper and meets his king half way, dropping to his knees before him. "My Lord."

Carlisle uncaring of decorum pulls his lost son up and into his arms. "I was told you were dead."

"Tis a long story," Edward replies, returning the affection his king is bestowing upon him.

"How?" Carlisle asks after they have separated.

"Poison," Edward answers. "Only enough to paralyze, not kill. I was lucky to be found and nurtured back to health." He cannot help the fond smile that pulls at his lips from the memory of his angel.

Carlisle studies him, unaccustomed to seeing that look upon his face. "A woman I presume?"

Edward's eyes close for a moment, savoring in her glory. When he reopens them, his king has a knowing smile. "Not merely a woman, but _the_ woman. An angel sent from God."

Carlisle's brows pucker and he looks around. "She did not return with you then?"

Edward's smile drops and his face turns stoic. "We cannot be. We are from two entirely different worlds."

"But you loved her?" Carlisle asks, the answer clear upon Edward's face.

With a curt nod from Edward, the subject is dropped. Carlisle pulls him in once more and gives him a hearty pat on the back. "I am in her debt," he says quietly, then releases Edward and shouts to the gathered crowd. "Whatever the cause, this deserves a celebration!"

The months after Edward's return are a joyous time for the kingdom. Their revered hero has returned and is training harder every day to return to his former self.

AGE

"King Swan is having a tournament for the hand of his daughter, Isabella," Carlisle announces to his knights. "He has offered the lands of Sheriff as a dowry. This is his clever way of pitting us against one another as the tournament is only open to those in Olympia."

The other barons will see through that," Jasper declares, disagreeing with his uncle's assessment.

"Lord Marcus of Tacoma has already entered the tournament," Edward states, his mind already churning. "As well as Lord Jacob of Quiluite."

"Let me enter then," Jasper suggests. "I will win her hand."

King Carlisle is already shaking his head. "You are my blood and noble presence, but―"

Edward stands then, muscles tense. "I shall enter the tournament." He kneels before Carlisle. "And I shall win her hand in the name of Olympia."

Trusting Edward's skill above all else, Carlisle agrees with his logic. "Are you sure you are recovered enough to fight?"

"I have been training hard. I will be ready. Inform the barons you will split the dowry lands among them. That will keep them satisfied after I defeat them," Edward states emphatically.

With a nod of his head, Carlisle gives Edward consent. Not only will Edward's sacrifice keep the peace in Olympia, but it will also bring Carlisle something he has not had in a very long time.

The companionship of a woman.

Edward's days leading up to the tournament are spent training harder than before. He has come back from the dead and is the most worthy opponent in all of Olympia. This will simply be a chance for him to hone his skills.

The trip to Portland is a long, slow ride for the caravan, but the end result will be worth it. Edward has not returned here since that fateful night of his parents' death. How fitting that he may deliver a small punishment to King Charles in this very place. He will be pleased to see his king keep his reign over Olympia peaceful. If winning a tournament will accomplish that, then Edward will gladly do so every fortnight. His ultimate goal is to see King Charles fall at Olympia's feet.

Upon arrival, Edward learns that seven other men will be his competition. Accessing the list, he knows that Lord Jacob will be his fiercest opponent.

The tournament begins and will last three rounds. Edward easily defeats his first two opponents. His skills at wielding a sword are unparalleled. But just as he suspected, his final opponent is Jacob Black.

Unbeknownst to Edward, Princess Isabella is seated with her father and watching the tournament with great pleasure. For her heart is here, and he is attempting to win her hand. With every opponent he defeats, her glee becomes greater. The swell in her chest rising.

When the final battle is called, Edward grips his sword and stalks forth. Even though Jacob is a large man, he does not have the strength to clash swords with Edward. After a particularly unsatisfying first few parries, Jacob drops to the ground and slings dirt into Edward's eyes, delivering a slash to his arm as fast as possible. Edward, fighting to see, relies on instinct. As the footfalls approach, he remains silent and still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

When Jacob steps in range, Edward swings his sword, delivering a gash to Jacob's abdomen, immediately dropping him to his knees. The vision before him is blurry, but the form is there. Drawing back his sword, he lands the butt upside Jacob's head, knocking him cold.

Cheers erupt and men come from all sides to celebrate Edward's win. He is hoisted into the air and paraded around on the shoulders of his fellow knights.

Edward does not know this, but his heart is also celebrating to herself as she watches from the stands. He who hath saved her from Lord James and holds her heart in the palm of his hand is now her betrothed.

King Charles has watched this show with great interest, hoping in every battle that Edward would be wounded―or worse. Instead, he has watched him win the hand of his daughter. Feeling irate that his plan has been thwarted, he stands and clears his throat. The crowd goes silent.

"Impressive victory," King Charles says. "Of course the man who defeated Lord James might be expected to triumph here."

Isabella stands quietly behind her father, praying that he would hurry and pass her to her newly betrothed. Every moment she can lay eyes upon him, but not touch, is pure torture.

"On behalf of Olympia, I offer your daughter a place on our throne," Edward says, addressing the crowd as much as King Charles himself. "The throne of Olympia, united behind one leader,"

Enraged over what he is about to do, King Charles must still follow through with the prize. "Isabella," he calls, not taking his eyes from Edward.

Isabella rushes forth to stand beside her father, throwing her hood back so that Edward may see her. "I am yours," she says unable to contain her smile.

King Charles, hearing the glee in Isabella's voice, turns to her with scrutiny. Her expression is not that of sadness, but open and joyful. He wonders why his daughter would be so pleased to be won by the enemy. He feels as though he is missing something and vows to figure out what it may be.

Edward pales as Isabella stands before him. His heart speeds, and then, when the realization of what he has done dawns, it cracks down the middle. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the emotions warring within him, he expels it slowly. "Isabella." Turning to Carlisle, he draws him closer. "I would like you to meet your betrothed, King Carlisle of Olympia."

Stunned and heartbroken, Isabella pans her eyes to Carlisle.

Her future husband.

* * *

 **Well, there you have it. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see just a HEA in one chapter or a full length story. I also made a gorgeous banner and entered it, but since the story is removed so is the banner. You can see it on Fyregirl Fics on FB.**

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	3. Her Future Husband

**Beta'd by the fabulous Sunflower Fran, who, by the way, is up for Fic Pimp and Grammar Nazi in the Twific Fandom Awards. I tend to think these awards are a popularity contest in some ways, but I trust you readers know whose name you see on A LOT of the stories you read ;)**

 **Pre-read by Judyblue and 2browneyes**

* * *

 **See you at the bottom for a couple notes!**

King Carlisle is hesitant to step forth, as he is lost in the beauty of the young princess before him. Her large dark eyes peer at him with fear and something else he cannot quite place, but all he wishes is to ensure her that she will be safe with him. It has been many years since he has felt anything for a woman, yet on this, his first glance at his future wife, a stirring begins to build inside his chest.

Very carefully, so as not to frighten her further, he takes a small step forward and reaches for her hand. "Isabella," he says softly as he lifts it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "I am honored to make your acquaintance." With a bow, he releases her hand and steps back, his eyes hardening and lifting to her father. "Charles," he says, his voice sharp like a dagger.

Charles has been studying the scene before him with interest. His once, seemingly excited daughter has now become sullen and withdrawn, her head falling so that she only studies the ground before her. However, when his name is snapped with venom, his hard eyes cast to King Carlisle and the reality of his situation faces him. He must now pass his daughter, his possession, to the enemy he has sworn to defeat.

"Carlisle," he snarls in return. " _You_ did not enter my competition." Though he knows the argument is pointless, he cannot stop his lips from speaking the protest.

A dark laughter floats from his counterpart, and his daughter flinches at the sound. "You know that matters not. Isabella is Edward's property to do with as he wishes, and I believe he has already spoken his intent."

Hope swells inside Isabella as her eyes snap up and begin searching for Edward, silently praying that he will change his mind and declare his love for her. Surely now that he knows it is she, he will do the right thing for them. It takes her but seconds to lock eyes on his form as he moves closer, back inside the circle of men surrounding her. But he does not even spare her a glance.

His form is rigid, and his eyes are menacing as they lock onto her father. "My decision stands," he says, though his chest aches as he speaks the words. "I am awarding my prize to my king." Afraid to even glance at her face, Edward abruptly turns, intent on putting as much distance between himself and Isabella as possible.

The further he moves, the more his chest tightens to an almost painful point. By the time he has reached his mount, he is scrambling to remove his armor in hopes that he may breathe a little easier. In one swift motion, he is astride his stallion and leaving the crowded scene behind.

Though Charles hears Edward's words loud and clear, he is too busy observing his daughter for them to matter. A spark of hope had lit within her as Edward moved closer, and he watched it wither before his very eyes as the same man hurried away, her eyes trained on his retreating form.

 _Interesting_ , he thinks as his mind catalogs the unexpected non-interaction between his daughter and the disdainful Edward Masen of Seattle. _It is almost as if she wishes to become his wife._ He pushes the information aside to ponder later and meets his sworn enemy's eyes once more.

With a nudge, he pushes Isabella closer so that Carlisle has no choice but to catch her. "She is the rebellious sort. I hope you are prepared to deal with her antics."

Paying no attention to King Charles, Carlisle grasps her trembling arms in his large palms. Very calmly, he attempts to reassure her. "Isabella," he says softly, drawing her eyes to his kind ones. "I mean you no harm. In time, I hope that you will see this. I will protect you from _all_ threats." His eyes harden and glance up to her father, holding for a mere moment, before softening and returning to her. "I will take care of you."

Though these blue eyes are not the ones she wishes to peer into, Isabella cannot help but feel comforted by the assurances from the man before her. His calm, caring nature is like a balm to her frayed nerves. Until, that is, she remembers exactly who he is.

King Carlisle.

Her future husband.

* * *

 **A few things:**

 **As mentioned earlier, it's Twific Fandom Awards time. Now, I'm up for a few things (thanks to whoever nominated me), but I know there isn't a chance in hell for a couple of them. But Mating Deviation is up for Out of This World Fic, and well, I think it's worthy. So I hope you're on there, voting like crazy every day for it :)**

 **I missed that the noms were even open, so sadly, I didn't nominate anything/one. But I want you to know that there's a category where so many of you deserve to be, and it's the Favorite Fangirl one. There are A LOT of you who have read and reviewed every single chapter I have ever posted, and I see you do the same for other authors when I peek at reviews. YOU are the fangirls that keep us authors writing and posting. Sadly, I only saw one of you on the list (and I'm voting for you), so I just want you all to know that** _ **I**_ **think you all get 1** **st** **place in my book. (You know who you are)**

 **Pay It Forward is also up for Fic Pimp Site, and it's a fantastic group for fic recs.**

 **Finally, this story. It's been a year since I've touched it, and I'm a little rusty. Please, just bear with me and the chapters will bloom. Right now, I'm going to take it a scene at a time and give it to you when I get them back from Fran. Probably a couple times a week at least. The next one is almost double this one. I need to develop the story in my head a little more, but I wanted to go ahead and get back to posting it, shake off the cobwebs. If I don't see you again this week (which I think I will with the SLT outtake), expect to have more Monday :)**


	4. A Posession

**Fran is the beta, and Judyblue and 2browneyes pre-reads. All mistakes are still mine.**

* * *

As they begin the long journey back to Seattle, Carlisle is even more intrigued with his future bride. He has held himself back, but now that they are alone inside his carriage—aside from her handmaid—he wishes to know more about her. He actually wants more than that. He hopes that this woman, his future queen, can fill a void that has long resided within him.

He clears his throat, and as he had hoped, her nervous eyes snap to his. He smiles. "You have nothing to fear from me, Isabella. For now, I only wish to know you."

She nods timidly before allowing her eyes to fall closed for a few seconds while she gathers herself. She is not this woman. She is not a timid, scared rabbit. She has always known what was expected of her, and King Carlisle is a prize compared to Lord James. She reopens her eyes and looks at the man before her, really looks, for the first time.

His face is calm and serene as he gazes at her, his blue eyes are imploring her to trust him, to open up to him, to give him a chance to prove his words. His very countenance offers her an assurance she has never before had. His kindness is more than she deserves.

King Carlisle is a well-known figure in her world, and in terms of power, the only man who can attempt to rival him is her father. Though he is at least twice her age, Isabella recognizes that any woman would be grateful to be in her position.

Taking a deep breath, she attempts a smile, though she is not sure if she succeeds. "I am sorry, My Lord. This day has been …" She pauses and searches for a word that can convey even one tenth of her turmoil. "Unsettling."

With a solemn nod, King Carlisle agrees. "I completely understand." After a resigned breath, he leans forward and takes her hand between his. "I do wish to grant you the time you need to acclimate to your new surroundings, but I would also like to discuss the circumstances of our union so that we are clear. Is that acceptable?"

The warmth of his hands evaporates as his words reach her ears. She knows the ramifications of this day, but for a few precious moments, she had allowed herself to forget. She had expected an unpleasant transition, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality she now faces. She would consider herself lucky, though, were it not for one devastating detail.

With a sureness she does not feel, Isabella offers her intended a distinct nod. She is resigned to her fate and may as well look forward, instead of wallowing in a past that can never be her future.

"Good," Carlisle agrees readily, even though she is sure that her reluctance would not have mattered. Gripping her hand more firmly, he continues, "I am fairly certain that you understand the concept of the tournament. The intelligence in your eyes is quite clear."

He pauses to give Isabella the opportunity to reject his assumption. But she does not. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and allows her eyes to fall to their hands; their clasped hands, which feels like a betrayal to her.

With a gentle movement, Carlisle lifts her chin and pulls so that she can no longer inflict damage. "You have no reason to fear. I will not demand more of you until we are married. You are to be the Queen of Olympia, and I intend to treat you with the respect that title deserves."

"I am not sure I deserve such a title, My Lord," Isabella speaks up, unable to stop herself.

"Why is that?" Carlisle asks, surprised by her fervor. Isabella expressed this thought more forcefully than she has spoken thus far. "You were born Princess of Policia, of course you are deserving."

His kindness is almost more than Isabella can take. This man, this king, expects her to be his wife and rule by his side, yet she cannot offer him the one thing he is most deserving from a new bride.

Her virtue.

The thought causes her to snatch her hands away and pull them close to her chest, her eyes upon him apologetically as she watches the hurt overtake him. "I am sorry, Your Highness." Her eyes cast downward. "I am not what you think I am."

Carlisle studies her downtrodden demeanor before making an attempt to ease her. "First," he starts softly, "you may begin by addressing me as Carlisle when we are in private. Second, whatever has you so worried, it does not matter. I have lived and loved before, Isabella, and it has been a long time for me. I am looking forward to starting again … with you."

Her heart speeds in her chest as she listens to his words. It is as though he read her mind and knows exactly what troubles her. Very slowly, she lifts her eyes to the man who is her future. There, she finds nothing but patience and understanding. For one moment, her chest squeezes before she pushes it all away with a deep breath.

After expelling her pain, she quietly says, "I, too, have loved and lost."

Carlisle's eyes narrow as they rove over her but not in a hateful way. He is studying her carefully, measuring the weight of her claim. With dark, haunted eyes and shoulders drawn in, he decides that, yes, Isabella's painfully uttered words are true.

"I take it your father had no idea?" Carlisle says this lightly, attempting to interject some normalcy into such a touchy, personal subject, until an errant thought flits through his mind. He then scrambles to seek her assurances. "It was not Lord James, was it?"

Isabella's eyes widen, and she immediately begins shaking her head. "No," she snaps so ferociously that even she is shocked by her tone. "I mean, no, My Lord. I apologize."

Carlisle actually chuckles at the small blast of fire that erupted from her. "Maybe it would please you to know that one of my knights is responsible for his untimely death."

Everything that Isabella has been attempting to forget comes flooding back. Edward Masen of Seattle. He is here, traveling with their own party, avoiding eye contact after handing her off to another man. Again, her anger spikes

"I do not care, My Lord. What is done is done, and I wish to move forward," she insists, banishing Edward from her mind.

Carlisle smiles then, a full hearty smile, and Isabella sees, for the first time, what an attractive man she has before her. He is ready to offer her the world, and it is her duty to accept it with the grace and class her mother would have expected.

"I wish to move forward, too," he says, retaking her hand and holding it between his own. His face turns serious once more as he gazes into her lovely eyes. "Let us put it all behind us. Nothing in your past can or will affect our future. Nothing before today matters. This is my promise to you."

His declarations are more than someone like Isabella should ever hope for, yet she cannot help but wish, for one brief moment, that it was another man sitting before her. She shakes those thoughts aside and focuses on her future husband.

"Are you sure, My Lord. You cannot know wh—"

King Carlisle shushes her before she can even finish. "It matters not." His look is so intense that she is left with no doubt that he understands what she wished to convey.

With a deep breath and a nod, her future is decided.

Hours later, after she and Carlisle have shared conversation, including tentative wedding plans, she finds herself growing weary. Resting her head against Angela's shoulder while covered with a blanket, she relaxes for a nap. Some time later, the thundering of hoofbeats draws her attention out the window to a knight on a solid black stallion.

A flash of bronze is all it takes for her to know who it is. Her heart thumps violently inside her chest. And briefly, as he moves on, she wonders if she will always react this way to him.

For a blissful period of time, as she watched Edward defeat man after man, her hope had soared, but now that hope is gone.

Edward Masen, the man who holds her heart, won her, yet passed her along as if she were nothing more than a mere possession.

* * *

 **I'm way behind on SLT Outtake reviews so I may not get back to you for this one, but there will be another later this week.**

 **See you then :)**


	5. Honoring His Word

**Fran is the beta, as always, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read :)**

* * *

The return journey is long, and for the entire length, Edward remains on edge. Never could he have imagined when traveling the same path just days prior, what would await him after he won the tournament.

The surge that had ricocheted through him upon her veil being lifted was one such as he had never felt. Deep wrenching sorrow had infiltrated his mind at the same time as a fire had ignited inside his chest. However, when the totality of them both leveled, he was left with only anger.

He was angry at Isabella.

He was angry at his king.

But most of all, he was angry at himself.

Because he knew immediately what he would do. Above all else, Edward was a warrior. He had sworn allegiance to his king, his father of sorts, and he would never betray him, not even for love. He would hand her over to her rightfully betrothed.

The only way he could accomplish this mountainous feat was to do it swiftly and with purpose. Every second he spent within reach of her was dangerous. His arms wished to crush her to his chest, while his knight screamed at him to honor his word.

And honor it he did.

"I thought you would be more joyous after such a victory," Jasper notes as he rides up beside Edward.

Edward's shoulders stiffen upon hearing his voice. He is not in the mood for a conversation. "Tis a dangerous journey and I need to be aware." He cuts his eyes to Jasper. "We _all_ need to be aware."

Thoroughly chastised, Jasper prompts his horse to speed ahead, and Edward feels a modicum of relief from his prying mind. But he knows this will not work for long. They will be reaching the Seattlitte Castle soon, and he must gather himself to face his king, for surely there will be a celebration in _their_ honor.

The suffocating pain that accompanies the thought is something Edward has never before dealt with. Swallowing, he takes deep breaths and expels them heavily, pushing the weight from his chest with each exhale.

In the distance, he sees the castle towers and urges Guardian to speed his movements. As he is passing Jasper, he calls, "Take up my spot. I will alert the castle of our arrival."

He does not even slow. He pushes his steed harder than ever before and revels in the surge of power between his thighs, losing himself to the wind as it blows heavily against his skin.

The closer he travels to the castle, the more people come out to line the dirt streets, celebrating his victory for Olympia. The large, wrought iron gate is already lifting in the distance as he reigns Guardian in and prepares to act his part; the part of a man who has won a prize for their land, the daughter of a rival king who will become their new queen.

He dismounts his stallion swiftly, leaving him in the capable hands of his squire, Ben. He heads inside the castle with purpose, yet he does not make it to his destination before Kate, Jasper's mother, appears before him.

"Edward," she exclaims as she blocks his escape. "Have Carlisle and the princess arrived?"

Unintentionally, Edward winces at the question, but he quickly attempts to cover it with a cough. "Excuse me," he offers after his ungentlemanly behavior. "No, Lady Kate, but the rest of the caravan is close. You should go and await them in the courtyard."

Her brows furrow as she looks him over. "Are you injured?" She immediately begins prodding him for a wound.

He takes a step back and steels himself for his act. Then with a deep chuckle, he says, "You think me weak? That any of those fools could best me?"

The kind lady, who has been like a mother to him for many years, studies him once more with a critical eye before conceding with a nod. "You are not invincible, Edward, we thought we had lost you once."

The words hit Edward like a bucket of freezing lake water. Just when he is pushing it away, one natural, caring sentiment brings it all back to the forefront. His demeanor chills to match his insides.

"You should be in the courtyard when your brother arrives," he says roughly as he turns and leaves her standing in the empty hallway.

Lady Kate does not miss the abrupt departure of Edward's mood, nor does she miss the fact that he is heading in the opposite direction of the courtyard. _What_ , she wonders as her eyes follow his retreating form, _demon does he still battle in regards to his return from the dead_?

Edward barges through the door of his chambers, heading directly to the chest at the foot of his large, ornate bed and flips the top open to frantically search for his sustenance. When his hand latches onto the container, his shoulders sag in relief. Turning, he uncorks it, pouring the thick liquid down his throat in large angry gulps.

The tightness in his chest is at a peak, squeezing so hard he can barely breathe. He yanks at his linen shirt in hopes of easing the pain. When that does not work and the laces have been ripped apart, he returns the small jar to his lips and drinks until there is no more.

He sits there for an immeasurable amount of time, breathing deeply with his head relaxed against the oak trunk before voices in the corridor begin to fill his ears. As he comes out of his stupor, he realizes the ache has retreated and left only a dull throb in its place.

He slings the empty ale container into the wall, satisfied with the loud crash upon impact. Pushing the annoying twinge down, he stands and begins changing his tattered shirt, using every available second to erect the wall he knows he must put forth.

Just as he is prepared to leave his chambers, Jasper peeks his head inside and begins chuckling as soon as he notices the broken fragments scattered across the stone. "I see you have already started the celebration without me."

Edward returns Jasper's merriment, even though he has nothing to celebrate. "You know I would not leave you out, my friend." He attaches a flask to his hip and pats it with a smirk. "Let us join the celebration." Wrapping an arm around his cousin's neck and locking his act in place, he leads them toward the music that echoes through the hallways.

Though his face is jovial, inside, Edward is crafting a carefully constructed suit of armor meant to protect his heart and return him to his full warrior status. With each step he takes toward his inevitability, another piece of steel slides into place, and by the time he leaves the cold, stone stairway behind him, his heart is entirely encased.

As they step into the great hall, Edward takes stock of the room, and his spine stiffens once his eyes cast upon the happy couple. He is careful to keep his focus solely on Carlisle, who is completely enraptured by the woman at his side. The adoration upon his king's face as he peers at his future bride fortifies Edward's already hardened resolve.

With a hearty slap on Jasper's back, he steps away and strides through the crowd with determination in his steps.

* * *

 **Just wanted to point out the angst label on this fic; it's the first I've given that designation. So, be warned, though there are lines I will not cross. If you need assurances of certain things, just ask.**

 **Okay, still haven't gotten to the SLT reviews (but I'll be doing them today), so I'll only be answering those who need a reply. I'm trying to make sure you have more chapters coming regularly. I'm not writing for a specific length, just until I feel that chapter is done.**

 **Next week's is ready, so I'll see you Monday :)**


	6. Just Try

**Fran beta's (and she's up for two awards!) and 2browneyes and Judyblue read!**

* * *

By the time Isabella and King Carlisle approach the castle, the crowds are already celebrating, following their procession on foot. Isabella is awed by their joy over her mere presence. That joy reaches her and begins to infiltrate her mind, opening her up to the possibilities of her new life.

She cannot help but return Carlisle's smile as he extends his hand to assist, first her, and then Angela from the carriage. The castle before her is impressive, but as she has grown up with lavish surroundings and the finest tutors money can buy, it is simply another place to rest her head.

It is but moments before the first person is approaching where she and King Carlisle stand. He tucks her hand neatly into the crook of his elbow and grants the woman a large smile.

"Kate," he says and then waves a hand to Isabella. "I wish to formally introduce you to my betrothed and future Queen of Olympia, Isabella Swan."

Instead of a curtsey as she expects, Isabella is pulled into a warm hug, much like the ones she remembers her mother giving her. "So very nice to meet you, Isabella," Kate says as she pulls back to look the young princess over. "We have waited a long time for you." Though Isabella does not understand what Kate is trying to convey, it is clear that she means something specific with that remark.

"Thank you, Lady Kate," Isabella responds, unsure what else she is supposed to say.

Kate waves her off. "We are family now. Just Kate will do." She then reaches over and offers Carlisle a hug before taking Isabella's hand from his arm. Even though he huffs lightly, it is all in good nature and this makes Isabella curious to know exactly who this woman is.

Before she can even utter the question, Carlisle says, "Easy, sister. I have not had her long enough for you to scare her off."

"Nonsense," Kate replies over her shoulder as she begins to lead Isabella away. "She and I are going to be great friends."

After showing Isabella into the hall and gaining her approval for the preparations of the night's festivities, Kate returns her to where her intended waits at the bottom of the large central stairway. King Carlisle tucks her hand into the crook of his arm and begins leading them upward. During their ascent, he speaks of the castle's history, carefully avoiding the subject of his dead wife. Isabella asks questions and absorbs the information as he leads her toward her chambers where a hot bath is awaiting her.

"Here you are, Isabella," Carlisle says as he opens the door to her suite of rooms. "I trust you will find everything is suitable. I shall return in a bit to escort you to the celebration."

Isabella notices Angela patiently awaiting her, but she is suddenly fulfilled by a strange sense of rightness. The kindness bestowed upon her so far is more than she could have ever hoped, and the position King Carlisle wishes to bestow upon her is astounding in comparison to the heinous Lord James.

Turning to catch Carlisle before he retreats completely, she lays her hand upon his arm and pins him with sincere eyes. "Thank you, My Lord. For … everything."

His smile is gentle as his eyes pass over her form, appreciating every line and curve. But what he enjoys most is the pink tint that gathers at the apples of her cheek. He steps closer and runs his thumb down the heated skin. "Isabella, it is I that should be offering thanks. You are a prize among women, and I am so very grateful that you are willing to try."

Though the thought of ever loving another is intimidating, Isabella knows that her heart can heal, and the man before her is offering that chance. A stable life; one free from her father's tyranny and a place by his side. The very least she can do in return is try.

"I will try, My Lord. I will strive to be a worthy queen," she replies softly. The words still hurt to speak, but with time, she knows the pain will fade.

King Carlisle brushes her cheek once more and says, "I want more than a Queen; I want a wife whom I can love deeply. A wife who is open to returning that love."

Isabella's eyes fall to his chest as it is much too soon for her to give him the assurances he is seeking. "I want to be open," she says quietly before her pain-filled eyes cast back to his, "but I am not sure I am ready."

"You have time. _We_ have time," Carlisle says, taking a step back. "Allow me to show you how wonderful it can be."

At Isabella's small nod, King Carlisle grants her a bow and retreats down the dark recesses of the hallway. Isabella watches his form until he is no longer visible before turning to see Angela watching her warily.

"Come, My Lady, your bath awaits," she says, waving her hand over the steaming tub. "Let me help you disrobe."

Isabella takes a heavy breath and closes the door, moving into her room to stand before her handmaid. "Turn around, My Lady."

With caring fingers, Angela begins untying the laces to her corset. "King Carlisle seems like a nice man," she says offhandedly, but Isabella knows her better than that.

Angela has been with her for many years, and in all ways that matter, Isabella considers her to be her closest confidant. But in this one instance, she does not want to hear the advice she knows her maid will impart upon her. For a few minutes, she just wants to mourn that which she has lost.

As Isabella relaxes in the large tub, the warmth of the water surrounds her like a blanket, and she reclines her head and closes her eyes. Surprisingly, Angela leaves her be, allowing her to get lost in the memories as the images play behind her lids.

Finding Edward. Saving him. Falling in love with him. Watching him leave, knowing they can never be … Recognizing him on the battlefield. Watching him defeat man after man. Feeling her hope soar.

And then that one moment.

The single second she realized that he had won her for someone else.

As devastating as that was, when she reflects on the events since, she also feels freed. She has been given a new chance at life. A good life. And she would be a fool to dwell on the past.

The rest of her bath is quiet as she allows her mind to move onto acceptance. She decides to embrace the opportunities before her. She has a wonderful, caring man ready to hand her the world, all she must do is accept it.

By the time Carlisle returns to her door, she has donned one of her finest dresses and is eagerly awaiting his arrival. For the first time that she can remember, she feels unencumbered. Free to simply be.

Carlisle takes her hand and places his lips to the skin of her wrist. "You are beautiful, Isabella," he says as he carefully places her fingers in the crook of his arm.

"Thank you, My Lord. You, too, look stunning this fine evening," she replies and does not even feel shame for thinking so. Carlisle is a handsome man, and that is only magnified by the royal blue velvet cloak he is wearing tonight.

Though Carlisle does not reply, on the inside his stomach is doing flips. The compliment from his future wife is the beginning of something special. He can feel it. She is opening herself up to the possibility of them.

The journey to the great hall is filled with quiet conversation about the upcoming feast and who will be in attendance. Isabella is unfamiliar with Olympia and tonight will be her introduction to those who are most important to the kingdom.

The room falls silent as she and King Carlisle appear under the archway. As she has been bred to do, Isabella lifts her chin and swallows her nerves. King Carlisle recognizes her posture and smirks to himself at the irony of Isabella thinking herself unsuitable to reign by his side.

Isabella's grip tightens on his arm, and together, they move forward into the room. Carlisle's eyes scan the crowd, seeking the one person he wishes to share his absolute joy with, the person to whom he owes his deepest regards.

Failing to locate him, he leads Princess Isabella toward his sister who is eagerly waving them over. "Isabella, you look lovely, my dear," Kate says, and as soon as they are within reach, she pulls her closer, offering another tight hug. "Step back and let me look at you." She holds Isabella at arm's length as she fingers the green material of her gown. "Such a beautiful choice for tonight from such a beautiful young woman."

Isabella is flustered by her compliments, but as her breeding has taught her, she does not show it. Instead, she gives Kate a curt nod. "Thank you, Lady Kate. Your gown, too, is exquisite."

"Isabella, please, just call me Kate. We are going to be family after all," Kate implores her, and the honesty of her statement moves through Isabella but not in an unpleasant way.

She finally grants the woman a smile. "Thank you, Kate."

"Isabella," Carlisle says, gaining her attention. "I would like you to meet Jasper; he is Kate's son and my nephew. Also one of Seattle's finest knights."

Jasper bows at the waist. "Princess Isabella, I am honored to make your acquaintance."

She holds her chin high and offers Jasper a practiced smile. "Thank you, Jasper, I am honored as well."

King Carlisle then places his hand on Jasper's shoulder and turns him away from the women so that they may converse privately. Though Isabella is curious, she gives them discretion by occupying Kate with conversation.

After Jasper has departed as if on a mission, Carlisle rejoins the lady's for a short period of time before insisting he and Isabella move onto other guests. Throughout the next bit, King Carlisle shows her around the great hall, making introductions as they move among the large crowd.

It is some time later, when Isabella senses something. It is a strange sensation moving over her skin, causing the fine hairs at the nape of her neck to rise. Her eyes begin searching frantically for the source, and suddenly stop when they land on the figure striding across the room with purpose in his steps.

"Edward," Carlisle booms before Isabella can comprehend fully what is happening.

A gentle hand prods her lower back and nudges them forward a few steps before disappearing and wrapping around the man to enclose him in a hearty hug. Though Isabella wishes she could look away, she cannot. Her heart is compelling her to watch the display of affection between the two men.

Green eyes lock onto her, and the vacancy she sees there is haunting. There is no warmth, no anger, no love, no pain, no glee; there is … nothing.

Edward goes through the motions of greeting his king while keeping his armor locked tight. It is only when Isabella's carefully pleasant smile turns into a frown that for one second, the emotion floods through him, allowing his eyes to sharpen and hers to recognize the spark.

A war rages inside them both. Each is fighting their heart but for very different reasons. While Edward intends to beat his into submission by sheer will alone, Isabella's has been wounded, and she is ready for it to heal.

As Carlisle pulls back from his pseudo-son, his merriment cannot be contained. He feels as if he is atop the world with his future bride by his side. And now, with the warrior who risked his life to win her for him, he feels complete.

The adoration in his king's eyes is almost more than Edward can bear, but he does. He returns the large smile with one of his own as they pull back from their overly enthusiastic hug.

"Where have you been?" Carlisle asks, and even that question is wrapped in joy.

Edward pats his hip and chuckles. "I started the celebration a little early, My Lord."

Carlisle eyes the flask. "Ahh, some sustenance was in order. Let us toast then!" he announces loudly to the people who surround them. He then accepts two goblets from the maid who has scurried over, passing one to Isabella and waving for Edward to take his own.

Holding it high in the air, Carlisle revels in the cheers around them. "This for Edward, my finest warrior, who has fought for Olympia and delivered me the grandest prize of all…" He pauses and turns to Isabella, his eyes sparkling.

Her breath catches in her throat as she is unprepared for the emotion that shines in King Carlisle's eyes nor the appreciation that lines his tone as he refers to her. And for one glorious second, she is drawn in and inspired by it until she feels the chill move over her. Knowing immediately what it is, she seeks the greens that are pinning her to her spot.

And they are pained.

Yet all this does is plant confusion and doubt inside her mind. He chose this, _he_ did this to them. She could have been his, and he refused her. Anger rises and her cheeks heat.

"I present to you all Isabella Swan, Princess of Policia, and future Queen of Olympia!" Carlisle yells and then urges her to take part in the toast.

So she does.

With eyes narrowed on Edward Masen of Seattle, Isabella pours the goblet back, allowing the liquid to burn its way down her throat.

Though Edward knows he should turn away, he cannot. Watching the fire burn in her eyes is an unexpected complication. He thought he could handle being close, ignoring her, but for one second he allowed his guard to slip, and she saw him, saw his pain.

"Edward," Carlisle says as he grasps his shoulder tightly, completely missing the exchange between his future wife and most loyal knight. "Drink up, my boy. Tonight, we celebrate!"

Edward finally turns up his own cup, draining it in one go. "Another round," he yells, and the maid who is hovering close by hurries to refill his goblet.

Once his ale has been refreshed, and he has drained the cup once more, he swears to himself that this will be his last time. He meets Isabella's eyes and burns her with his stare, opening up so she may see what this has done to him, what losing her is doing to him right now.

He then closes his eyes and severs their connection, turning his back and disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

 **Both Mating Deviation (Out of this World Fic) and Fyremasen (scribbler alliance) made it to round two in the Twific Fandom awards. I'm not one to beg, but pleaseeeee, if you think MD is worthy of a spot in the top 3 vote, vote, vote! Same can be said for Fyremasen ;)**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	7. Pretend

**Sunflower Fran is the beta, and Judyblue and 2browneyes pre-read!**

* * *

As Isabella takes in the absolute devastation she sees in Edward's eyes, a numbness begins to spread throughout her body. The first to experience it is her mind, and by the time it reaches her chest, he is gone, leaving her a shell of the woman who entered the festivities earlier in the night.

For the remainder of the evening, Isabella plays the part. She is a receptive, happy and full of grace toward everyone she meets. She is sure to smile when expected and laugh along with others. She carries herself regally and basks in the glow of King Carlisle's doting, yet for every single second, inside she is completely empty.

For his part, Edward has retreated to the far end of the room and taken up a spot against the wall. Though it is not intentional, whenever the crowd parts, he cannot help but grab quick glances of the happy couple as they travel around the room. Each smile she gives freely leaves a dent in his carefully erected armor.

He never imagined he'd face this scenario, but at the time it was thrust upon him and even since, he was positive that he made the right choice. But every single second that he spends in her— _their_ —presence feels like a blade has been run through his chest. He does not know how to stop the pain. He can only to pretend externally that it does not exist.

A loud ruckus beside him causes Edward to glance to his right. Jasper and Michael, another knight, are propped against each other, laughing and slurring their words. He rolls his eyes but moves closer so he can eavesdrop.

"How about the short wench?" Michael extends his wobbly finger out in front of them, attempting to point at someone across the room. "She has been eyeing you all night."

Jasper leans closer, his eyes straining to focus on whoever it is Michael's referring to. "You mean Jessica?" Jasper pulls back and looks at Michael like he is daft. "I thought you and her had a thing."

"No, not Jessica," Michael says, shaking his head even though Jasper's no longer looking at him. "The short one over by Emmett. Her hair is sticking out in all directions." His hands are waving up near his head trying to imitate the girl's hairdo.

Jasper strains forward and all of a sudden freezes. His eyes are locked onto someone, and whoever it is, she has his full attention. Edward follows his stare, wondering if he knows this particular wench.

He, too, freezes, but it is for a very different reason than Jasper.

Bella, _Isabella_ , he corrects himself with a shake of his head, is standing amongst a group of Seattle noblewomen. Not only is she interacting with them, but she actually has her head thrown back, and a laugh that Edward cannot hear is escaping her lips. It is such a glorious sight to behold, and at the same time, one of the most painful he has ever experienced. To see her so free and in her own element douses any considerations of regret he might have.

She belongs on a throne.

Edward quickly diverts his attention, turning to converse with Michael. "What is going on with you and Jessica?"

Michael's head wobbles as he turns to his leader on the battlefield. "She is just an easy wench, if you know what I mean," he responds with an attempt to wiggle his brows but only moves his receding hairline back and forth.

Edward snorts and bobs his head. "Are they not all?" he asks, casting his eyes past Michael's shoulder to see the wench in question headed in their direction. "Do not look now, but she is heading your way."

Michael's eyes go wide, and he starts seeking her out, drool already forming in the corner of his mouth. He tries to twist around hastily but stumbles instead. Edward grasps his shoulder and steadies him with his back against the wall to assist in upholding his weight.

As Jessica and another wench reach them, Edward steps aside, focusing back on Jasper, who has already attempting to disappear into the crowd.

Edward grabs his arm. "Where are you off to?"

Jasper is shocked by the sudden halt as he is so entranced by the woman across the room. His brows lift, and his red-veined eyes focus on Edward. "Just going to introduce myself."

His eyes cast back to the short woman with ink-black hair, and Edward follows his gaze. But once again, he spots Isabella instead. Only this time, she sees him too. He releases Jasper's arm with a nod and severs the eye contact between himself and his heart, doing everything he can to push her from his mind.

He turns his attention back to Michael and the two wenches who have collected around him. As soon as his body is angled toward them, the second wench's eyes land on him, interest sparking in their dark depths. She moves closer, right into his personal space. His first instinct is to retreat, but a quick glance in _her_ direction gives him pause, and he stays put.

Not sensing any resistance, the dark-haired woman places her hands upon Edward's chest and peers up at him with large, doe-like brown eyes. They freeze Edward in his place. So bad does he wish that this were Isabella that he almost imagines it to be so.

He shakes his head to clear it, but the wench only moves closer, her body nearly pressed up against his. "You look as though you wish to relieve some tension, My Lord," she says as her hands run up and curve around his shoulders. "I can help you."

She flutters her lashes, and all he can do is stare, transfixed by the large, round eyes which are pinning him to his spot. A new battle wages within him. Nothing about his current situation is appealing, yet he wishes to move forth, to have a life beyond the abhorrent choice he was forced to make.

Before he can fully decide which path to follow, warm lips connect with his. He tenses, but his resistance crumbles when he lifts his eyes in search of the one who he is trying to forget. Seeing his Bella as Isabella, his future queen, pushes him to pretend. If he closes his eyes, just maybe, for one moment, he can imagine she is with him.

Gripping the woman's hair roughly, he bends her to his will, exploring her mouth with fervor. Though her lips are too thin and the moans she is making are all wrong, he ignores it and continues the battle of their tongues.

It is not until her hands slide down to brush against his ballocks that he snatches away, breathing deeply, frustration heavy in his blood. Because this is not what he wants— _who_ he wants.

For she is across the room, her eyes frozen on the seemingly affectionate display.

* * *

 **Another reminder to vote, vote, vote!**

 **Did you catch Damsel, posting on Fyremasen?**

 **See you Monday :)**


	8. Spy

**Fran is the beta extraordinaire, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read.**

* * *

In the days that follow, Isabella is torn, and Edward's absence does not go unnoticed. She has not seen him since the feast on the night of her arrival. Her very last visage was of him taking pleasure from another. Though she knows they must move on with their lives, as they are traveling on two very different paths, it still pained her deeply to witness his display.

For his part, King Carlisle has been patient and kind, allowing Isabella room to breathe, while at the same time, leaving no doubt that he wishes to have her completely. He is such a man that, had she never met Edward, she could see herself loving him one day. But as it stands now, the gaping wound Edward created is barely healing with the knowledge that he is so close, yet not hers to have.

As she strolls through the castle gardens, Isabella takes in the beauty of the flowers that surround her. This is one glaring difference between her homeland and here. Though there is much greenery, the cold temperatures do not allow for the flora to bloom so freely. In just a few short days, this is fast becoming her most favorite spot on the grounds.

"My Lady, we should head inside. The midday meal will soon be served," Angela notes, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "The winds are strong today."

Isabella looks to her handmaiden and spreads her arms wide, spinning in the breeze. "Angela, tis a beautiful day. I could spend all my time out here. I feel so carefree." Her head is thrown back, and there is a smile upon her face.

Angela takes note of this as she studies her princess. This is the liveliest she has seen her in quite some time, as Isabella has never been able to be truly uninhibited. The last she can remember was when …

She shakes her head sadly. There was only once, and it was with the man who broke her only days ago. In this instance, she decides she is not going to harp; she is going to allow her princess to enjoy this small pleasure.

"Very well, My Lady. Would you like me to have your meal prepared and served on the terrace outside?"

Isabella pauses and grants her maid a smile. "That would be lovely, Angela. Thank you."

Angela hesitates. "Will you be fine out here by yourself?"

Isabella shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Of course I will. I am on castle grounds, and there are guards within screaming distance."

"If you are sure, My Lady." Angela offers a small curtsey before turning to leave Isabella to wander the garden alone.

Isabella watches her go with an appreciative grin before turning to continue down the path she has chosen for today. The sheer size of the gardens makes sure that each day is a new adventure. So far, she has discovered but a pittance in comparison to all that is spread before her. Tall, leafy bushes and fruit bearing trees line the large, rectangular perimeter while beds of differing flowers and herbs spiral through the center in intricate patterns.

Following the outer pathway, Isabella strolls in the breeze, taking advantage of the short period of peaceful alone time she has been afforded. Her mind is clear of all except the beauty she is basking in, until the sound of metal clashing meets her ears. Moving more swiftly now, she follows the sounds, and it is not until she hears the accompanying grunts that she becomes alarmed.

Too curious for her own good, Isabella creeps to the very edges of the garden, where the sounds are the loudest, and peers around the bushy leaves. To her shock, she sees two men parrying their swords, though as she observes further, it is clear a mock battle is taking place.

Just as she is about to retreat, the men twist quickly, and she is met by a set of bright green eyes that freeze her in her spot. The same can be said for the man to which they belong. So fixed is Edward that he misses the next blow and is leveled to his knees.

A gasp escapes Isabella as she backs away, blending into the foliage around her. Her heart is pitter-pattering inside her chest so fiercely that she quickly seeks out a stone bench where she may collect herself.

 _You fool_ , she chides herself internally as she attempts to catch her breath. _You should have minded your own business! Now he thinks you were intentionally spying on him._

With several deep breaths, her heart begins to slow from its rapid pace, and a sadness begins to settle within. What was she thinking sticking her nose where it did not belong?

The past several days have been ones of kindness and respect. King Carlisle has made every effort to show her that he is there, ready to love her with all that he is if she would just accept it. And as each day has passed, she has felt more and more for him.

The first emotion to break through her downtrodden demeanor was her gratitude, but slowly, with his tender actions, he already has her considering what it would be like if she did give in and permit him to love her as he wishes.

Edward's absence has made it easier. Not seeing him has allowed her take steps toward embracing her situation. But now, so unexpectedly, he has reappeared and she has regressed with just the sight of him, even though her mind knows what her heart does not. She belongs to another, and Edward does not want her.

With a heavy sigh, Isabella absorbs the truth of her thoughts and endeavors to push beyond this, to forget the pain in those eyes as they peered at her. She stands, ready to get back to her lovely afternoon stroll. Figuring Angela will be searching for her soon, she starts meandering back the way she came, drawing her shawl closer as the wind picks up.

When Isabella has taken only a few steps, though, the brush behind her rustles, and her gaze snaps sharply in that direction. After eyeing the greenery carefully, she shakes her head _._

 _It must be the wind_ , she thinks as she turns to take a step.

However, a gravelly voice brings her to an abrupt halt. "Bella."

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading, and those of you who comment especially. This is a new type venture for me (angst), and I'm strangely unsure about how this one is going for some reason. Your words definitely help!**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	9. Truly Understand

**As you know, Fran is the beta and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read.**

* * *

The pitter-pattering she felt earlier is nothing compared to the absolute pounding that Isabella's heart is now doing. She is frozen in her spot, too terrified to move for fear that she has imagined … him … calling her a name that only they know.

Isabella squeezes her eyes closed and clenches her shawl closer to her chest before taking a deep breath and spinning to face Edward. His hand is outstretched as if to beckon her, and his green eyes are bright as they beg her for something she cannot even begin to comprehend.

For his part, Edward has surprised himself. He only meant to make sure Bella was okay, but watching her collect herself, and then thinking she might walk away, it became too much. He had jumped from the bushes and called her name before he could stop himself.

But looking at her now, he cannot take it back. Bella is even more beautiful than he remembers. His feet are rooted in place, and his hands clench to avoid taking her in his arms and damn the consequences. He is a man who is on the precipice of ruining both his life and that of the woman before him.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and fists his hair. So frustrated is he with the direction his thoughts are taking that he almost misses the fact that Isabella is starting to back away with tears glistening in her eyes.

She has tried this once and was let down in a way in which she is still trying to overcome. Edward does not want her, and she is a fool for standing here entertaining the idea that he might have changed his mind. She spins, ready to get away, but his hand closes over her shoulder.

"Please, Bella. Please, can we talk?" Edward asks and the words are painful for them both.

Him, because just her presence here in Olympia alone hurts, and her, because she wishes to move on and live the life she is being offered. Yet, more than that, she wants that life to be with Edward instead of King Carlisle.

Isabella turns and snatches her shoulder. "What could you possibly have to say to me?" She wishes her voice would project the absolute anger she feels, but it does not.

Only the hurt is detectable.

And detect it he does, causing the blade to twist and sink deeper. "I … I think we have much to discuss," Edward says hesitantly, unsure whether he should continue down this very dangerous path.

Though Isabella would love nothing more than to refute him, she too knows there are many unspoken words hanging between them. But instead of giving in, she remains stubborn and lifts her chin in defiance.

"Nothing you can say will change anything. Our paths have been decided. _You_ chose for the both of us." This time her voice is harsh, the bitterness his decision brought about seeps into her tone.

Edward winces at her words, but the anger of them is better than the hurt she previously displayed. She _should_ be angry at him. He knows her, and he still treated her as nothing more than a possession. That act alone should make her hate him, he should want her to hate him, but he cannot.

He takes a step closer, and watches as her eyes widen slightly. "Bella, I only honored my vow to my king. How was I to know that _my Bella_ was Princess Isabella Swan of Policia?"

Even though Edward knows his words are a recrimination, it is the truth. For if he had any inkling that Bella's hand was the one being offered, he would have confessed to his king and gladly won her as his bride.

She withdraws slightly and barks an incredulous laugh, his accusatory tone only angering her further. "You dare to put this on me?" she all but yells, her hand landing upon her chest. "Why do you think I kept my identity a secret? I knew you would try to save me, and I could not allow myself be the reason for Olympia's downfall." She takes a step closer now, her hand moving to his chest, pleading that he will understand. "And then I saw you at the tournament, fighting for me"—she shakes her head sadly—"or so I thought, and my heart was rejoicing inside my chest. We were going to be together. I was to be your wife … until I was not." She steps back and allows her hand to fall, her eyes cast onto the rock-lined path beneath her feet.

Edward is stunned at her candor, but he is also torn completely in two. His head screams at him to finish this conversation and walk away, yet his heart cries out for him to claim his love.

Not even allowing his mind a say, he steps forward. "Bella," he says as he lifts her chin. "It was not my wish to hurt you. Ever. And I am so sorry that I did, but can you not see that I had no other choice? Can you not see that this is killing me? Having you so close yet not mine to hold is torture."

As the images of Edward and another flash through her mind, Isabella snatches her chin from his grasp and lets out a very unladylike snort. "Torture is not the word I would use. Did you mean pleasure instead, Sir Edward?"

Isabella's use of his formal title after such a callous dig is almost too much for Edward. Though it is not his intention, he grabs her arm forcefully. "Do not say that!" he barks, unable to keep his composure.

Always the stubborn one, Isabella struggles against his hold. " _You_ did this! You are the one who was with another," she yells back, and she is fierier than he has ever seen her.

Edward grips both her arms now, attempting to quell her rage. "Can you not see?" he almost pleads. "I only want you, Bella, and seeing you with _him_ is driving me mad."

Isabella is filled with so much anger from his declaration that she snatches her arms away and starts pounding her fists into his chest. "How can you say that? How can you torture me so freely? You did this to us! To me!"

Unable to witness her distress any longer, Edward wraps his arms around Isabella's struggling form and pulls her close. Though she still tries to pummel him, he cannot let her go. Her body feels too good next to his. It has been too long since he has held her like this.

As Isabella's movements slow, she becomes aware of her predicament. Her head is resting upon a chest; a chest belonging to the man who gave her up, but it is also the chest of a man she desires more than any other in existence. Tears start to leak from her eyes at the hopelessness of it all.

Though Edward and Bella understand exactly what has transpired to bring them to this point, they cannot help but both carry the same pain. It is deeply embedded inside them with their hearts and minds at war. For their predicament is one where neither sees an escape, and all they can do is suffer in silence.

With a heavy breath, Isabella lifts her head and meets Edward's caring green eyes. "You had promised me to King Carlisle before the tournament," she states softly, knowing the truth of her words but wishing she is wrong.

"Bella," he says, his voice pained. "I had no idea."

She offers him a small bob of her head. "I understand."

She looks to his chest, unable to hold his gaze, but his hand lifts to frame her face, cupping her jaw and pulling her eyes back to his. "Do you, Bella? Do you truly understand? Do you understand that I resent my king because he has you? Do you understand that wanting you for my own is treason? Do you understand that I could care less about any of those things? I love you, Bella, and belonging to my king means nothing to me when I have you in my arms like this."

Isabella is justly stunned by his words but not so much so that she is not prepared when he leans down and presses his lips to hers. A sigh of relief escapes simultaneously as their skin touches. A longing that has been building takes over then, and they each lose themselves as their tongues slide together, reforming a connection that has been long lost.

Eagerness begins to build as Edward twists her so that he may explore her more thoroughly. Isabella's hands find their way onto his shoulders, her fingers gripping tightly as they twist and parry their heads. Their breathing has sped, and it is not until a growl sounds from deep within Edward's chest that the reality of their actions comes crashing back into focus. Almost on instinct, they both pull away swiftly, peering at each other with wide eyes.

But before either can say a word, a voice behind them speaks. "My Lady, your midday meal is ready."

Isabella's cheeks heat in both embarrassment and frustration. "Yes, Angela, thank you," she says while refusing to look away from Edward.

Angela clears her throat. "Come, Isabella. Your food will be cold."

Annoyed now, Isabella turns to meet the eyes of her handmaiden. "I am coming. If I could please just have a moment." The two women exchange harsh looks, but Angela holds her tongue.

Because she knows that Edward has already slipped away.

* * *

 **Thank you for the comments earlier this week, and I know I haven't replied to them all yet, but I will. I probably won't reply to today's, though, because I only have one chapter for next week so far. I need to write!**

 **See you Monday :)**


	10. Sudden Insinuation

**Fran is the beta, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read!**

* * *

As the days have passed, Edward has done nothing but admonish himself for his foolish actions. Her body felt so right in his arms that his heart had overruled his mind, leading him to make a move that could very well cost both of them their lives. For he is under no illusions, King Carlisle is enamored by his bride to be, and even Edward would be vulnerable to his wrath.

In an attempt to bury the shame from his actions, Edward busies himself in training his knights. He spends every day on the field, running his men through combat simulations. These are important to keep Edward's mind off the feel of Bella's lips beneath his, but they also play another very important role.

He is preparing.

Bella was correct when she expressed her reasons for hiding her identity, so why would King Charles willingly hand her over to the enemy? Edward knows that whatever it is, the King of Policia's intent is dark. Preparing for an unseen threat gives him a focus that does not have silken hair and dark, doe eyes.

The sound of metal clashing causes his blood to pump in his veins. He has always been invigorated by the battle and practice is no different. He stalks around the opposing pairs he has squaring off, assessing each knight for weaknesses.

Propping his chin on his hand, he studies Tyler and Michael as they spar. "Spread your stance, Newton. A broader base will give you more control of your swings."

The men pause and Michael attempts to reposition as Edward has asked. "Like this?" He takes a firm stance with his feet still too close together.

Edward approaches and kicks his calf, pushing his legs further apart. "More like that. Start again."

The two men break out in a much more even battle, and Edward moves on to Jasper and Emmett, who is a big burly guy with a lot of strength but tends to act before he thinks.

"Pay attention to his movements, Emmett," Edward barks, irritation clear in his voice. "He is quick, but you are stronger. Use it to your advantage."

As the men twist and battle, Edward gets angrier due to the clumsy movements of Emmett's bulky frame. Though he knows that Jasper is a tough opponent, a man the size of Emmett should have an automatic advantage.

Just as Edward draws his sword, ready to spar with Emmett himself, Carlisle interrupts them. "Edward," he calls as he covers the last few feet between them, glancing around to the various battles occurring on the field. "I have hardly seen you lately. Is there a reason you are training so much?" Carlisle's brow is wrinkled as he looks over his most trusted knight.

"No, My Lord. Nothing specific, but you can never be over-prepared," Edward replies, instantly annoyed by his king's presence. "I cannot help but expect a move on the part of King Charles."

Carlisle grips his shoulder. "Let us walk."

Edward tenses with his touch, but he battles within himself to calm. This is a man whom he respects and admires, a man who raised him after his own parents were murdered—saved his life, even—but he is also the man who intends to wed _his_ Bella. And because of that, a rage like no other burns Edward from the inside, a rage he is unable to quell.

Taking a discrete step to the side, brushing off his king's touch, Edward starts leading them away from the other knights. "Is there something, in particular, you would like to discuss?" he asks, once they are sufficiently away.

Carlisle releases a deep breath. "I know you, son. I have cared for you since you were a boy. It is not like you to spend so much time in the field. I know that I have been preoccupied with Isabe—"

Unable to allow Carlisle to speak her name, Edward brings his hand up and interrupts, "I am aware of your preoccupation, but I think one of us should be prepared. King Charles did not give his daughter's hand without a plan. Are we even sure she is to be trusted?"

King Carlisle stops his forward progress, and his blue eyes pierce Edward. "You will not speak ill of Isabella." Though his voice is calm, it is a deadly calm.

Even though Edward, himself, is not sure from where those words came, he cannot help but feel even angrier at the protectiveness in his king's voice. His mind decides in that second to push the matter further in an attempt to cast doubt upon Isabella and the validity of their betrothal.

"My Lord," Edward says forcefully, "while I know that you would not wish to think it, this would not be the first time someone has been planted inside a kingdom."

"Edward," Carlisle growls in warning, but what he does not realize is that the more defensive he becomes, it only feeds Edward's anger.

"No, sire. I will not allow you to be blinded by a woman. What do you even know about her?" Edward asks, but unbeknownst to him, he has only opened himself up to more pain.

King Carlisle throws his head back and laughs loudly. "What do _I_ know about her? The question you should be asking is what do _you_ know about her, because I can assure you _I know her_. While you have spent your days out here"—Carlisle motions around them—" _I_ have spent my days by her side, not only discussing our intent to wed but learning every conceivable thing I can about her. Do you know why I do this, Edward?"

Too horrified to speak, Edward can only shake his head.

King Carlisle steps forth and grips Edward's shoulder firmly, and this time, Edward does not wince, for he is too empty inside to even react. "I do this because she is my chance, son. I have lived many lonely years, and now the heavens have opened and laid a gift at my feet. I plan to cherish that gift and hope with everything I am that she will cherish me in return."

Swallowing back the emotion that is sure to choke him, Edward says, "You love her already." Though it is not a question, Edward casts his eyes to the ground and prays that his king will deny it.

And though he does not, he also does not confirm it either. Instead, King Carlisle studies his knight, taking note of his defeated stance. "Son," he says and pauses until Edward finally looks back up. "Do you have news of a specific threat against Olympia?"

"No, My Lord," Edward replies, thankful that he did not hear the confirmation of his deepest fear aloud.

Carlisle nods and prods them to begin walking again. "Good, then how about you make yourself less scarce. Join us for mealtimes and meet her officially, get to know her. I think you will see for yourself that she is an exceptional woman, one worthy of my love."

Edward, unprepared for the sudden insinuation, has to clench his jaw to keep from screaming, _You cannot love her. She is mine!_

With deep breaths taken in through his nose, Edward fights the fury that is building within him. His mind works to reason with itself to the point that he fears he is going mad. He created this situation, he knows this, yet he cannot help but want to drive a blade through his king's chest.

After several steps of silence, Edward finally collects himself. "It would be an honor to spend time with my future queen, My Lord," he says, shocked by the words that are flowing from his lips.

Carlisle, on the other hand, breaks into a large smile. "See, that was not so hard, was it?" With a jovial shoulder bump, he stops them once more. "Finish up with the knights' training, and Isabella and I will see you for the evening meal."

"Yes, sire," Edward replies, standing still and watching as his triumphant king wanders off toward the castle.

Edward is both stupefied and disheartened by his actions. He has done everything he can daily to escape the thoughts of her, driving himself to keep busy every second, but he should have known Carlisle would seek him out. He should have prepared for a visit. He did not, though, and now he has only compromised them further.

Before he can even think it through, his feet start moving, the large bushy hedge already in his sights. For he knows exactly where she is due to his daily skulking tendencies. With purpose, he slinks into the shadows of the garden and moves along the brush, seeking the one he cannot forget.

Instead of simply observing, as usual, when the sweet sound of her voice meets his ears, this time he steps into the open without thought. Both Bella and Angela freeze in their spot, but it is the smile that forms upon _her_ face that blooms inside his chest, taking his breath.

"Angela," Bella says before Edward can even recover. "Could you excuse us."

Angela's gaze snaps sharply to her princess, but before she can speak, Bella barks, "Now!"

With one last unsure look, the handmaiden scurries off, her mind in chaos over the choices her princess is making. Things have been better here in Olympia than she could have ever hoped for Isabella, and she worries that Edward will lead them all to their deaths.

Keeping the smile upon her face, Bella starts closing the distance between them. She has not seen him since their kiss days ago, and while she knows it did not resolve anything, she somehow has felt lighter than at any other point since her arrival. Knowing his motivation for giving her up has only endeared him more to her—if that is even possible.

So overcome is Edward by the happiness that is upon her face that he fails to retreat before she encloses her slender arms around his waist. Instead, he stands with his arms stiffly at his side until her scent permeates his airways. Unable to resist, though he did not come here for this, he wraps his arms around her back and savors the precious few seconds he is allowed to hold her.

When she does step back to peer up at him, her brow immediately wrinkles. "What is wrong?" she asks, already feeling alarmed.

Edward rubs his thumb across her forehead to smooth the lines and offers a small, unsure smile. "I have made a mistake, I am afraid." He steps back, severing all contact, causing a slight panic to build within her.

"No," she says forcefully, grabbing his hand to stop his movement. "Do not disappear again."

The shock of her words hit him full force, like a jolt of electricity moving through him. He shakes his head sadly. "Do you not see, Bella, we cannot do this." He waves his hands around them—the seclusion, the affection, the general rapport between two people who are assumed to have never spoken. "Carlisle has … _urged_ that I make myself available to get to know his future wife. And I have foolishly accepted." He spins away from her and grips his hair in frustration. "What was I thinking?"

Though Isabella hears every word from his lips, she cannot make herself stay away. She steps closer, looping her arms around his waist from behind and laying her head upon his muscled back. He tenses but does not move. Instead, he reaches down and covers her hands with his own.

The contact between them is silent, but it is enough to calm his overwrought emotions. After absorbing all he can, he takes a deep breath and opens her arms to step away, keeping one of her hands in his but refusing to turn back to her completely.

With his eyes locked on an apple tree in the distance, Edward says, "I must go. Soon, I am expected to dine with my king and his future queen."

As he steps away, her hand drops to her side and tears shimmer in her eyes.

* * *

 **Wow, thanks for all the love last chapter! I did manage to get some writing done, and we're still on schedule for two this week.**

 **A quick note about Angela, remember that she is who helped save his life with Bella originally. She already knows about their past and now their present, too, but she has been with Bella her whole life.**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	11. The Ides

**Thank you, Fran, for beta'ing these chapters so swiftly! 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read them just as fast!**

* * *

Pretending they have never met turns out to be easier than expected. Isabella was quite nervous for their introduction, but Edward proved every bit the charming gentleman she never knew he was, and it put her at ease immediately. From that point forth, they have been able to share a friendly rapport—just as their king had expected.

In Edward's case, spending time with his king and future queen is painful, but he makes a concerted effort to hide it away in the darkest depths of his mind. When he is with them, he simply basks in her presence, and that alone is enough to curtail any residual anger he is harboring.

For Isabella, just the opportunity to be around Edward has made a difference in how she approaches her new life. Knowing she will see him puts a smile on her face and an extra bounce in her step. Though nothing has changed for them, the ability to share a part of their days feels like a gift to her battered heart.

Isabella's transformation, it seems, has not gone unnoticed. So buoyed has she been by her newly found contentment that she has failed to recognize the repercussions.

That is, until this very moment.

As soon as Carlisle's skin slides against her own, her eyes snap to his face—a face that is full of adoration and hope. She has ignored the way his eyes sparkle at her happiness. She has missed the cues that tell her he thinks she is ready to expand their boundaries.

"Is this all right?" King Carlisle asks as he clasps their hands together and props them upon his leg.

A moment of panic ensues, and Isabella tenses, but he does not relinquish his hold. Instead, he keeps her gaze with eager eyes until she relaxes. With a nod, her eyes fall to her lap. "Yes, My Lord."

He reaches a gentle finger over and tilts her chin so that she is forced to face him. "Have we not discussed this? Please, you may refer to me as Carlisle when we are alone." His eyes cast a glance toward Angela, who sits across the carriage, but his meaning is clear.

"Yes, Carlisle," she corrects herself and offers a small smile of apology.

"Much better, Isabella." With a gentle brush along her cheek, he drops his hand. "Now, what would you like to seek at the market? Some silk for your wedding gown, perhaps?"

Another shock of panic flickers through her, but she fights it down rather quickly. "Carlisle," she starts slowly, her mind whirring to come up with a suitable reply. "Lady Kate and I have already begun those preparations."

"I would like to discuss that with you," he says in an easy manner, giving Isabella no clue of the request he is about to make. "I know we have not set a specific date, but I would like to do that. Now, if possible."

"I-I am not sure, My Lord," she says barely able to speak properly, because this is her mistake. Her actions have led him to believe she is happy in her life—with him—and ready to move forth.

"Isabella," King Carlisle says softly, pausing until she meets his eyes. "I understand that you are not quite there yet, but you will be. I assure you. I am going to give you a life that is filled with everything you have ever hoped. Love, happiness, children and even a country to rule. I am laying it all at your feet, and all you will have to do is accept. Will you? Will you accept my proposal, Isabella?"

The soft touch of their clasped hands is almost too much for her. She thought she had accepted this as her destiny, and yet, with the moment upon her, it feels too real, as though it is happening to someone else. She has unintentionally given him all the signs, and while she appears contemplative on the outside, on the inside, she is crumbling.

But she knows his question is only a formality.

She is his.

Meeting his eyes with as much sureness as she can muster, she says, "Yes, Carlisle, I accept your proposal."

He simply beams at her, and a sharp shard of guilt churns in her gut. "You make me so happy, sweet girl. I promise that you will live the life you were always meant for." He brings her hand up and places a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. "Now, shall we set a date?"

Carlisle watches his betrothed carefully. He knows that she will need time to acclimate herself to this step forward, even though this has always been where their lives together were headed. His gentle persistence has served him well so far, as she has blossomed over the past few weeks. Her smiles come on a daily basis, and the hurt that once haunted her eyes has almost completely disappeared.

He keeps his expression patient as he watches the differing emotions flicker across her face. After some time, she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, she simply offers him a nod.

Even though he can feel her uncertainty, a broad smile spreads across his face. "Isabella, our life together will be magnificent. Trust me."

Her eyes fall closed, and she takes a deep breath, berating herself. For she knows that this is what is expected, and it is she who has allowed herself to forget. "Yes, Carlisle," she finally utters, blowing out her breath and relaxing her shoulders. "I am ready."

A swell of hope fills King Carlisle's chest at her acceptance of him—of them. "I would be remiss if I did not inform you that I am eager to have the proceedings behind us. Would you be opposed to next month? The Ides?"

Isabella's breath catches, as this is just one more blow to her heart. Nevertheless, if she is to marry any man that is not Edward, King Carlisle is a respectable alternative. Steeling herself, she replies, "The Ides would make for a lovely ceremony."

Carlisle is so overjoyed at their progress on this afternoon that he cannot stop himself from leaning forth and placing a kiss on each of her lovely cheeks, causing them to heat. Though he never needed her approval, he wants it more than she can realize. He hopes to be the man who can replace her lost love and capture her most precious asset.

Her heart.

Meanwhile, in that moment, Isabella promises herself that she will make every attempt to embrace what is hers to have.

A place by King Carlisle's side—as his wife, in every way.

* * *

 ***Ides – middle day of the month - the 13** **th** **in short months, and the 15** **th** **in long months.**

 **Everything happens for a reason.**

 **See you Monday :)**


	12. Time Limit

**TwificFandomAwards Favorite Grammar Nazi, Sunflower Fran is my super awesome beta, and Judyblue and 2browneyes pre-read for me!**

* * *

As Isabella sits to Carlisle's right at the large, rectangular table that is overflowing with food, she cannot keep her eyes from the empty chair across from her. Normally, she would be eagerly anticipating the appearance of the man who will fill it. But not today. Today, she is nervous and unsure.

Her king is in a celebratory mood, ready to announce their wedding date to the gathering dinner companions. Since their earlier visit to the market, Isabella cannot help but notice how her acquiescence has affected Carlisle. Though he has always been a caring, gentle man, his demeanor has now shifted to include absolute adoration and maybe even … love.

This terrifies her, as she is afraid she is incapable of returning the emotion. But at the moment, she is more concerned with how Edward will react upon hearing the news in this public setting.

Isabella, herself, is wracked with guilt. Both for her encouragement of Carlisle's feelings, and for what she perceives as a betrayal to her heart. She also realizes that she is only a pawn in a man's world, and her wishes have no meaning. She is under no illusions, yet she is aware that the men who will be the most affected by this outcome of events are the ones who placed her in this position from the start.

The loud clamoring of voices draws her from her thoughts, and she turns to take in the group of knights who are approaching the table. Bright greens are locked on her, and once they make brief contact, the connection is broken. One by one, the men address their king and future queen before taking their places further down the table.

With only a brief look at his Bella, Edward can already tell that something is wrong. On each and every occasion they have had the pleasure to share time, there has been a light shining in her eyes; a light that blinds his pain and allows him to ignore it. But this time, it is missing; he notes worry and uncertainty instead.

In an effort to offer reassurance, he makes a grand gesture to both his king and future queen. Dropping to his knees, he first addresses Carlisle, "My Lord, it is a pleasure to dine with you."

Carlisle tilts his head curiously but still offers a large smile. "Thank you, Edward. This is a joyous day." He claps a firm hand on his knight's shoulder.

Anxious to address Bella, Edward bows his head in acceptance of his king's words and pivots toward his future queen, taking her hand. "My Lady," he says, looking deep into her troubled eyes. "You look lovely today."

Isabella has to swallow back the lump that has gathered in her throat. Seeing the concern in Edward's eyes is more than she deserves, and she fears it will turn to anger once he realizes the true ramifications of this meal.

With a tilt of her head, she says, "Thank you, Sir Edward." She attempts to offer him a small smile, but is not sure if she succeeds. Judging by the intensity of his stare for the next several seconds, she did not.

With a slight bow, Edward rises and makes his way to his seat which is opposite Bella. His mind is churning with every conceivable notion, preparing a response to any likely scenario and dismissing outlandish ones immediately. His king is in high spirits so whatever woes are affecting her do not concern him, or he is simply choosing to overlook her melancholy—or worse, he does not even see it.

Edward does not have to wait long for it to become clear, because as soon as he is seated, King Carlisle stands with his goblet raised in the air. "Fine people of Olympia," he yells, causing the room to fall silent and every eye to cast upon him—aside from Bella. Edward notices that her eyes are on the empty plate before her. "While every feast in which we share is a fine occasion, tonight it is made extra special with an announcement."

Carlisle pauses and looks to his future wife, who meets his eyes only because she knows what is expected. So when he holds out his hand for her to take and stand at his side, she obediently does so, carefully avoiding eye contact with Edward.

"It is my great honor to announce that Isabella and I have settled upon a wedding date!" Carlisle says with the exuberance of a happy man. "We shall be married on the Ides of May."

A loud ruckus breaks out amongst the people seated before them. Celebratory shouts and the clinking of goblets echo through the room, and instead of becoming angry, Edward raises his glass and drinks to the news. His loud cheers cause Isabella's eyes to seek him out, and though he is jovial and happy in actions, the slight tick of his jaw and tight grasp on his own goblet relay his true emotion.

Inside, it is not rage that fills Edward, it is despair. A time limit has been imposed, and though he has no specific plan of action, it feels as if it is constricting him suddenly, clamping tight upon his airways. Yet no matter how painful this is for him, he needs Bella to understand that he accepts her circumstance; after all, there is no alternative.

So with congratulations upon his lips and a goblet in his hand, he drinks to the future of Olympia. And then, he drinks some more. His evening is spent with goblet after goblet of ale. Eventually, the pain starts to numb, and his smile has been upon his lips for so long that it becomes natural.

By this point, Edward feels so unaffected that when the dancing begins, he patiently awaits his turn with his future queen. After watching Bella and Carlisle spin around the room, he can sense her unease. He realizes that his actions are impeding her ability to accept what his king is offering.

Edward makes a vow at that very moment to free her. He cannot lead either of them down the very dangerous path they have been traveling. Though he is not sure if he will ever love another, he must be happy knowing that his love is well cared for by her husband; a man who is not him.

As the next song comes to an end, Edward begins making his way into the crowd in order to relieve Jasper of his obligatory dance. "May I?" he queries after a tap on his knight's shoulder.

With a kiss to Bella's hand, Jasper passes her to Edward and starts making his way back to Alice, the handmaiden who has held his eye in recent weeks. Intent on drawing a definitive line, Edward takes her hand and offers her a respectful bow before assuming the closed position for their waltz.

As their feet begin moving, Bella's eyes are upon him. Though she cannot be sure what to expect from this dance, she does know there is a purpose. She has watched him as discretely as possible all evening and has been unable to pin down his true reaction. Upon just an outward glance, he seems celebratory, but there are other emotions that move through his eyes too quickly to discern.

As soon as they have settled into a steady rhythm, Edward finally meets her eyes. He is careful to keep his expression even, but looking at her almost always takes his breath away, and this time is no different. She is a vision before him, and the uncertainty that shimmers in her eyes must end now.

"My Lady," he starts, keeping his tone low yet as formal as possible. "I appreciate your allowing me this dance."

Instead of a response, Bella's eyes narrow slightly as they roam over his face. She is unsure what to make of his greeting. Of course, it is the same she has received from every other knight on this eve, but Edward is _not_ any other knight. She honestly expected him to leave a wide berth between them, but he did not. He is here, holding and dancing with her, but he is doing so as if he is simply any other male in his king's guard.

This confuses her, so she places a perfunctory smile upon her lips. "Tis expected, Sir Edward," she says while offering a slight shrug of her shoulder, in an attempt to hide her budding annoyance.

When Isabella notes the slight tick of his jaw, a wave of satisfaction flows through her, so she continues, "Besides, it would seem suspect were I to refuse you."

Their bodies continue to spin across the floor as if on autopilot, for both of their minds are on other things. Isabella wishes he would just speak his mind, while Edward is dreading what he needs to say.

Knowing he has no other choice, for their dance will end soon, he starts, "Bella." The name from his lips draws her full attention. "Keep your face neutral, please. We must converse. No, I must speak, and you must listen."

Her brows furrow slightly, but she catches herself and smooths her expression. Once she is ready, and as their feet follow the count, Edward starts speaking. "I am afraid I have been unfair to you. I have risked both of our lives and made you unsure of your union with Carlisle." Bella starts to shake her head, but his voice rises slightly, stopping her. " _Yes_ , it is true, Bella. By stealing moments with you, I have held you back. It is unfair of me to offer only peeks into a life that is not yours to have. Your place is with Carlisle, and I want you to live it. I want you to revel in all that he is offering you. It is more than I could have ever given."

Bella silently processes his words, and though she is sure he is resolute, she does have one counter. "You have given me your love, and that would have been all that was needed."

"Bella," he says softly. "Do you not see that Carlisle has already given you the same? He worships you and is offering a status which you were born to assume. I can never give you that."

"I did not ask for it," she rebuts, yet she already knows she is losing this war of words, so she settles with the truest of truths. "I wanted only you."

Edward's eyes fall closed at her declaration, but his feet do not falter. He shifts his focus away from the honesty of her gaze, guiding them around the room while his mind comes to terms with what he must do. "We cannot be, Bella," he utters the some of the hardest words he has ever spoken. "You and I are from different worlds, and you will make the finest queen I have ever had the pleasure to serve. Please, do not fight me on this. All I am asking is that you live the life you were born for. There is no other choice in this matter."

Isabella tenses at his words. He is, again, using a choice that _he_ made against her. She leans forth slightly so that he may hear her clearly. "You had _two_ options, Sir Edward, and _you_ chose to honor your king instead of our love. Your actions have proven that you are not the man I thought. That man would let no one stand between him and the person he _claims_ to love."

Isabella straightens and withdraws her hands from Edward. She gives him a scathing look before lifting her skirt and turning to seek the man who has always treated her as though he is blessed to have her in his life.

King Carlisle.

* * *

 **Okay, a couple of things. First, the Ides, I chose it because I thought it would be easily recognizable as a day, and I wanted to use terms they would use back then. It's not an omen of doom here. Second, the end of my week got out of hand and I didn't get to respond to a lot of you. I'm very sorry, especially since there were a few that needed a response. I promise to get this chapter.**

 **Now, finally, gahhhhh, I won an award for both Mating Deviation(2** **nd** **) and Scribbler Alliance(3** **rd** **), and I can't thank you enough! I mean, I know it wasn't possible without you. Please just know that, though I write for myself, without your lovely words, I wouldn't get as much enjoyment from it. For me, the readers are just as important as the authors in this fandom. XOXOXO**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	13. Clarity Like Never Before

**Favorite Grammar Nazi, Sunflower Fran, betas** **—** **though I majorly tweaked this after** **—** **and Judyblue & 2browneyes give me words!**

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Edward can do nothing but watch as Bella stalks away from him. He had expected some resistance from her, but never did he foresee such animosity—especially at him. Does she not see that he is doing this _for_ her? He is condemning himself to a life of watching his Bella love and be loved by another. He can think of no harsher punishment, yet with her open contempt, she has cut him even deeper.

 _Does she truly think this is easy for him?_

Somewhere amongst her words, he gained the impression that she thinks he has another option, but he does not.

 _Does he?_

 _Would his king simply give up Bella if Edward were to tell him the truth?_

Though he would love for it to be that simple, it is not. Not only is King Carlisle in love with his bride to be, but the political fallout would be crippling to Olympia. Edward's betrayal would become fodder for the kingdom, and in the end, it may cost him his life. Not that Carlisle would relish in his demise, but were an uprising to occur, he would have to deliver a fitting punishment.

And for treason, the price is his head.

So engrossed in his thoughts is Edward that he has forgotten he is standing in the middle of the dance floor—partnerless. Until that is, a small woman places herself in position and nudges him to begin moving. His feet pick up the count as though he had never stopped, while his eyes jump to the person who is dancing along in front of him.

Recognition flashes as soon as he peers at her, causing his brows to furrow. Jasper's wench has now taken up the space Bella once occupied. "Sir Edward," she addresses as they spin around the room. "Perhaps a little advice is in order?"

Edward's steps falter slightly as his eyes narrow on the woman in his arms. "Excuse me," he snaps, because how dare this wench address him as though she has anything to offer.

She tsks, which only annoys him further. "Sir Edward, I understand you are in a state of agitation right now, but you should be careful not to offend those whose only wish is to help."

Edward is not sure why he is even still dancing with this woman, but there is something in her knowing eyes that compels him to ask, "How could you possibly help me?" There is disbelief in his tone, but he cannot hide the hint of curiosity that accompanies it.

A smile lifts the corners of Alice's lips. "Do you know that Jasper and I are to be married?"

This train of thought confuses Edward, but he answers her anyway. "Jasper has yet to share that piece of news."

"How could he"—Alice shrugs one shoulder—"he does not yet know."

Edward's feet come to a standstill at her absurdity, but before he can storm off, Alice again speaks. "I have seen it, and I have seen _other_ things too. Things that concern you and Lady Isa—"

"Stop it!" Edward snaps, his patience swiftly wearing thin. "You have no idea what you are saying."

A normal person would quiver under Edward's heated glare, but Alice does not. She only stands straighter and takes a step closer. "You have already made one mistake tonight, do not make another."

Though her words are said in a most serious manner, all Edward can do is chuckle. He shakes his head and begins to turn away, but Alice's voice stops him cold. "She belongs with you, not the king."

Snapping back in her direction, Edward grabs her arms and starts moving them along the dance floor once more. Though he thinks she must be mad, he cannot allow her to spew her nonsense for prying ears to hear.

"I do not know who _she_ is, wench," he nearly growls.

Alice's bark of loud laughter is so unexpected, it startles Edward. "Coy does not suit you, Edward." He lifts a brow at her failure to address him with the proper title, but she continues, "Choosing to heed my advice is up to you, but you should know that she is yours, whether you claim her or not."

"What does that even mean?" he barks, her cryptic words only serving to confound him.

"It means," Alice says slowly, "that she can never fully be his." With those words, she steps back and curtseys before turning to find her future husband.

Edward's mind is swirling with confusion after this strange encounter, but at least he has the sense to leave the dance floor before he can be accosted a second time. He heads straight for a goblet of ale, turning up the first cup he can grab. For the rest of the evening, he makes small talk while keeping track of Carlisle and Bella's movements around the room. With each new goblet of ale, their celebratory countenance matters less and less to him.

It is not until late into the evening, when many have already gone, that he feels the obligatory pull to make his presence felt. On shaky legs, he makes his way across the room, coming to a stop before Isabella and Carlisle.

"My Lord," he says as he approaches, slapping his king on the shoulder. "This has been a fine gathering, and for such a special occasion. Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials."

"Edward, my boy," Carlisle replies, happy to see that his knight is still present. "We are both very pleased with the progression we have made." Carlisle takes Isabella's hand and draws her closer by his side.

"My Lady," Edward says with a bow of his head. "I have come to extend my warmest regards."

Instead of responding, Isabella simply tilts her head, for she is in no mood to receive anything from Edward, much less his regards on her marriage to Carlisle. A marriage she once dreaded but has now chosen to embrace. She is fully committed to being everything the good king could wish for in a bride.

Isabella stands silently, observing the two men as they interact. It is obvious there is a deep respect between them, which makes her even surer that though Edward had to make a split-second decision, it was, at one point, rectifiable. Therefore, their predicament at this moment lies squarely upon his shoulders. She can only conclude that this is exactly as he wishes things to be, but it still hurts her heart to know that she is so easily dispensed.

Blending into the shadow of her betrothed, Isabella scrutinizes Edward's demeanor. He actually appears, for all intents and purposes, to be truly happy for his king. Though, it is clear from his red-tinted eyes and the wobble in his stance that his goblet has been refilled many times. She is even fairly certain she caught a glimpse of him enjoying the dance floor earlier.

"Isabella," Carlisle says, drawing her nearer and comforting her with a caring arm around her shoulder. "Are you all right? You seem to have gone quiet on us."

Isabella can feel her cheeks heat, so she covers a fake yawn to hide her face. "I am sorry, My Lord. I must be more tired than I realized."

The concern he expresses when he looks her over is tender and caring, exactly as a man who cherishes his future bride should. "Shall I escort you to your room?"

Though Isabella is not sure she should allow him, Edward's prying eyes only harden her resolve. "That would be lovely, Carlisle."

Guilt knots in her stomach almost immediately. The spark in Carlisle's eyes at her use of his given name is undeniable, yet she only did so in hopes of hurting Edward. In that second, she promises she will never again do such a thing.

The two men part, and Carlisle takes her hand to lead her to her room. The walk is silent but comfortable, something she is becoming quite accustomed to in his presence. For he is a compassionate and tender man whose only fault lies with the fact that he is not Edward Masen.

The man himself, Edward Masen, is having a hard time not chasing after them. Attempting to ignore her from across the room was one thing, but being so close and yet so completely far away was torture. His heart almost leapt from his chest when she ignored him, because his only wish was to hear her voice. Even with the distance between them, her contempt burned hot against his skin.

No matter how much he wishes to dispel them, Alice's words ring loud in his ears, and he cannot help but wonder if he is condemning his Bella to the same life of nothingness he will live. Her safety and happiness were top priority in his earlier decision, even above the future of Olympia. His hopes were that she would move on and find happiness, but just the mere thought that she, too, will suffer, causes a realization like no other to dawn.

With a clarity like never before, Edward leaves the Great Hall and takes the stone stairs two at a time, slowing once he hears their voices echo up the hallway. Barely able to make out the outline of their forms in the dim lighting, he has an overwhelming urge to intervene but knows he cannot. If he has any hope of executing his thoughts, secrecy will be his only path.

Edward slinks past the opening of her corridor and follows the main hallway until he finds the room he is seeking. The library smells of dust and aged paper, but he welcomes the scent, breathing deeply—for enriching one's mind should always be a priority. With no time to waste, he passes the large, cherry wood shelves, filled with book after book, and settles on the quiet nook in the far corner. But what he does there is surprising. Instead of selecting a tome, he slides his hand along the wood of the shelf until he feels the lip. He pushes, rather firmly, and steps back as the wood pops open to reveal a cavernous entrance.

The space is dark, dusty and covered in cobwebs, but he wastes no time before entering. Following the narrow passageway, he navigates the turns just as he did when he was a child. Once he reaches the desired location, he crouches down and slides a stone to the side, offering himself the perfect view of the happy couple as they converse in the hallway.

The light flickers, causing shadows to dance along their skin, and Edward's breath lodges in his throat as he watches his king lean closer. Bella stands, frozen in time, neither retreating nor seeking, but it matters not, because Carlisle closes the distance completely.

Edward's throat constricts, and a burn makes its way across his chest and down into his stomach as he watches _his Bella_ reach her arms up to encircle Carlisle's neck. He can almost feel her desperation for this to solidify something deep inside her soul, but he knows it will not.

Because she belongs to him.

Unable to look away, Edward is frozen in place. This is his punishment, and he deserves it. So he forces himself to watch what he has pushed her into before retreating back into the darkness with his decision made—for better or worse.

Once Carlisle and Isabella separate from their kiss, there are two distinct feelings amongst the individuals. For his part, Carlisle is overjoyed at their astounding progress on this night. For Isabella, there is only an irrational anger, which she struggles to hide from the man who only wants to love her.

"Thank you for walking me," she says, adding a more pronounced yawn for effect. "I shall see you in the morn."

Carlisle places a gentle kiss upon her knuckles and bows before retreating down the hall. Isabella stands, breathing deeply in an attempt to rein in her anger at a man who no longer matters, before she turns to enter her chambers. When the door is firmly shut behind her, she leans against it with a loud, annoyed sigh.

"Bella."

Every muscle in her body tenses and her eyes snap to the sound. With rage scorching through her veins, she begins striding forward to confront her intruder.

* * *

 **Pay It Forward is hosting a "We Love Mobward Contest"**

 **There's a FB group for it, just search the title if you're interested in joining. This is going to be FUN!**

 **I'll do what I can on replies, but I have a very "pivotal" chapter to write for you *winks***

 **See you Monday :)**

 *****I totally forgot to pimp the Beyond the Bedroom Contest, voting is open and I'm a judge! There's some interesting reads, you should definitely check them out!**


	14. Tense Confrontation

**Fran is my awesome beta, while Judyblue and 2browneyes give me thoughts!**

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"You!" Isabella exclaims, balling her fingers into fists at her side as she advances on him. "How dare you show up here!"

Though Edward holds up his hands in an attempt to placate, he is unable to find words to speak. The glory that is his Bella, in all her fury, has struck him dumb. The tense set of her shoulders and the haughty lift of her chin are quite a contrast to the gentle, loving Bella to which he is accustomed. But it is the spark which illuminates her eyes that travels to his most inappropriate place.

He is brought back into the here and now quite suddenly, though, as Bella lifts her hand and a resounding smack echoes throughout the room. It takes Edward a moment to realize exactly what has occurred, yet when he does, all he can do is snap his eyes back to hers with a modicum of shock, and quite frankly, an infusion of lust.

Isabella's chest heaves as they engage in a stare down. Her anger is palpable, coursing through her blood like a drug, making her feel larger than life. This man has hurt her repeatedly, and it is still not enough for him. Now he wishes to pour salt in her open wound, and she will not allow it.

"You have made your decision, Sir Edward," Bella begins with slow, measured words, "and I have already begun embracing my decided future. So why would you come here, or should I say, how did you get in here?" She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to refrain from strangling him.

"How I came here is unimportant, it is the _why_ that is paramount, Bella." He takes a step closer and lowers his voice to what he hopes is a soothing hum. "I know I have angered you, and for that, I am deeply regretful, but it was my hope that we could do what was right for Olympia."

"Exactly," Bella interrupts with a wave of her hand as she begins pacing the floor before him. "Your priorities have been stated and well received. I, for one, have already started taking your own advice. Why it was mere moments ago that I tasted Carlisle's lips for the fir—"

Bella is shocked silent by the rough grip on her arms and the eyes that are boring into her own. In the pale light, they are dark, but it is the heavy brows that arc downward, which make him appear all the more menacing. Yet she is unafraid; he can hurt her no more than he already has.

"Do not say it," Edward growls, his grip on her arms tighter than it should be. "You and I both know that it was a pathetic attempt."

Bella, enraged that he is right, lifts her chin high to peer directly into his eyes and lies to his face. "It was the most pleasant encounter I have experienced since my arrival in Seattle."

Edward's spine stiffens, but then, he barks a half-angry, half-incredulous laugh before smashing his lips to her in a punishing kiss. His mouth is hard and insistent, meant to remind her exactly to whom she belongs. What he does not expect is the forcefulness of her actions.

Bella is so incensed by Edward's audacity that she meets his persistence with a fiery urgency of her own. But it is not her intent to please, no, Bella wishes to lash out. With that in mind, she pushes back just as forcefully and winds her hands into his bronze locks, pulling slightly, so that a growl builds in his chest. When his lips part for it to escape, she tugs sharply and opens her own mouth, enclosing her teeth over his bottom lip and biting until she tastes blood.

"Agrrrr," Edward screams, pulling back and reaching to cover his mouth. "By God's bones, what was that?"

Bella laughs darkly, supremely pleased by his reaction. "That was your warning, Edward. Stay away from me!"

His shoulders slump. "I cannot," he states simply, his hope fading.

"What do you mean!" Bella yells, confusion and anger battling inside her. "You have repeatedly chosen for us to be apart and now you stand before me saying you cannot leave me in peace! How cruel can you possibly be?" By this point her voice has lowered, for she is resigned to the fact that he lives to torture her.

"Bella," Edward pleads, taking a step toward her, but she simply backs away. "Please, listen to me. It is not my wish to be cruel. My intent was to honor my king and country while offering you a happy life filled with love." He sighs deeply, pleased that she is granting him the opportunity to explain.

"I understand, Edward. That is why you being here, _attempting to_ _kiss me_ , makes it all the worse. Can you not see what you are doing to me?" Bella asks, and her voice is small, the fire from earlier has completely faded.

Bella's words and the resignation in her voice pour over Edward like melted wax, singeing his skin before cooling to leave him bereft. He advances his position, but only slightly so, in hopes that she will allow him near. "Please, if you would hear me out, I will justify my presence."

Bella sighs and waves, giving him the floor, before clutching her arms around herself to brace for his explanation. She cannot imagine what more he has to add to his already proven stance, but if this is what she has to endure so that she may move on, then so be it.

Now that the moment is upon him, Edward is filled with a sense of foreboding. He realizes that he has pushed her away and pulled her in more than any normal person would allow. But his Bella is anything but normal; she is the most exceptional person he has ever had the pleasure to meet, and he can only hope that she will give him one final chance.

He opens his mouth, but the words do not come. Gripping his hair, this time it is he who starts pacing. Finally, he begins to speak as he makes a tight circuit on the floor before her. "I tried, God knows I tried, but I cannot do this. I cannot allow you to marry Carlisle."

Bella's gasp brings his feet to a stop as his gaze jumps to her. She is staring at him with wide, stunned eyes. He approaches her swiftly, not allowing her time to retreat. He makes slow movements as his hands reach up and begin removing the pins that contain her long, brown locks. They hold eye contact, neither speaking, as he gently runs his fingers through it as it falls in waves around her shoulders.

"Bella," he says, his voice gravelly due to the emotion flowing between them. "I cannot give you up. I want to be that man you described. The one who would put his love before all, but I do not know how." He brings his hands up to cup her cheeks. "Could you show me? Could you lead me down the right path? I love you and wish you to be mine, but I do not know how to make it so."

Every ounce of resolve Bella has dissolves into nothingness. To hear him speak so openly of his hopes for them to have a future, while also sharing his shortcomings, is more than she dreamt possible. Edward is here before her, wanting her, sharing himself with her.

She lifts, offering her lips to his.

He does not hesitate to reciprocate. Leaning down and angling her face, he brushes his lips across hers in a soft pass. A mutual sigh of relief escapes between them and their lips fuse together once more. This time, when their mouths open, it is a complete union. Their tongues glide together in a well-practiced dance.

With soft pecks, Edward slowly pulls back to read her eyes. The light shining in them fills his soul with determination. For the first time since she has arrived at the castle, he sees an optimistic gleam. He only hopes that he can manage this with both of their lives intact; for make no mistake, they are playing a dangerous game.

"Are you sure this time, Edward?" Bella asks softly, running her fingers over his scruffy jaw. "I cannot be broken again." The pain that radiates in her voice stabs him directly in the heart.

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly before saying, "My decision is made. You are my life now. I will never again forfeit our love."

"Oh, Edward," Bella says breathily as she lifts to meet his hungry lips once more. They clash like the starved lovers they are; lips, teeth and tongues all mesh to build a sweet heat that sends sparks scurrying across their skin. With ragged breaths and low sighs of pleasure, they each taste the other until the thirst has been sated.

It is only the unexpected opening of Bella's chamber door that causes them to jump from their tightly enclosed positions. Bella's hand moves to cover her heart in an attempt to quell the thundering, while Edward stands stiff with a stern expression directed at their intruder.

Angela, for her part, is frozen in place, her eyes wide and afraid. But it is not Edward in which she fears, it is for their lives. She had thought her princess was done with this dalliance, but now she can see how wrong she was. Even as they have been caught in a compromising position, neither can keep from casting glances to the other.

"Angela!" Bella exclaims. "Shut the door."

"Oh, I am sorry, My Lady," Angela replies as she hurriedly pushes the heavy wooden door closed. "I have just come to assist you in undressing." She glances expectedly at Sir Edward then, expecting him to recuse himself.

"No need, Angela," Edward says rather arrogantly. "I will assist Bella with her gown."

Both of the women's eyes are on Edward, and each holds differing expressions. Angela's are wide with shock, and Bella's are sparking with barely restrained lust. She is doing all she can to keep from launching herself at him this very moment, for it has been far too long since she has been undressed in Edward's presence.

Not taking her eyes from his form, Bella says, "That will be all tonight, Angela. Thank you."

"My Lady," Angela says, aghast at her princess. "I cannot in good conscience leave you alone with him."

Bella's eyes snap to Angela, and though she was ready to castigate her, she pauses when she sees the concern brewing. She sighs. "Angela, I am capable of making my own decisions."

"But, My Lady, your decisions threaten us all," Angela responds, her voice pleading with her princess.

"Angela," Edward cuts in, his voice soft but stern. "I understand your worry. This is a perilous scheme, but it is all we have. I love Isabella, and I refuse to condemn her to a loveless life."

"If she lives at all, you mean," Angela returns, lifting her chin in defiance.

Edward takes a step closer to the woman, his eyes hard and sure. "I will protect her with my life. That is the most assurance I can offer."

But it is the movement of her princess that stuns Angela the most. Bella steps to Edward's side and clasps her hand onto his. "We are in this together."

Edward, feeling bolstered by Bella's support, says, "It will take time, but I will make alternate arrangements. If I have to leave my king and country behind to be with Bella, then so be it."

Angela's shoulders slump in defeat. She has no other arguments. If her princess has a chance to escape and live a life with her love, then who is she to question the attempt. She offers the couple before her a curtsey. "I do not like it, but I will abide by your wishes."

Bella steps forth and hugs her lifelong handmaiden. "I will go nowhere without you."

Angela offers a small nod and slips out the door, leaving Bella and Edward to their privacy.

* * *

 **See you Thursday :)**


	15. Take Me

**Beta'd by the fabulous Fran, and pre-read by the awesome 2browneyes and Judyblue!**

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Once the door is firmly closed behind Angela, Edward's stance softens, and Bella releases a heavy breath. They have not yet had the chance to discuss the newly developed circumstance between them, so explaining it to another presented quite the challenge.

Bella trusts Angela with her life, so she is not concerned that she caught them, but the disapproval her handmaiden displayed is disheartening. Angela's only concern is for Bella's wellbeing, and that is appreciated, but Edward has presented himself and offered her a chance she is unwilling to refuse.

The man himself turns and cups her cheek. "Are you all right?" he asks tenderly.

Bella nods and buries her cheek deeper into his large palm. "She is only being protective."

Edward leans down and presses his lips to hers for a soft kiss before pulling her whole body into his embrace. Holding her makes him feels more contented than he deserves. Angela is right to be fearful; the path he and Bella intend to travel is the most treacherous journey he will ever face.

"Bella," he says as he pulls her even tighter to him, "I hope you understand that I did not make this decision lightly. Your life is the most valuable in existence to me, and I will fight to my death to protect it from _any_ threats. I love Carlisle as if he were my father, but he cannot have what is mine and mine alone."

Though Edward cannot see her face, silent tears are leaking down Bella's cheeks. His words have sent a rush of emotion through her so stunning that she is grappling to contain it. She has dreamt of hearing a declaration such as this from him, and yet, now that she has, her heart aches to know that she is fracturing the country that has done nothing but accept her.

Once Edward hears his Bella's quiet sniffle, he pulls back so that he may see her eyes. The tears are almost too much for him. He hurriedly leads her to the bed and falls at her feet. "What is it?" he asks frantically, afraid that she is giving up on him. "Please, Bella, I cannot fix it if I do not know the cause."

Bella takes a shuddering breath and wipes angrily at her eyes. "I cannot believe the harshness of it all, Edward. This is what I never wanted!" She flings her hand out, motioning around them.

Her words stab Edward even deeper, and before she can finish her tirade, he begins pleading with her. "No, Bella, please, no. I cannot lose you now. I am sorry if it is too much, but I cannot watch you marry him."

Bella is so stunned by his overreaction that she grips his cheeks firmly. "Edward, stop. You are not losing me." She lays his head upon her lap, and as she combs her fingers softly through his bronze hair, she continues, "I am not upset with you. I am upset because I never wanted to be the reason for Olympia's downfall, and now it will happen." Edward lifts and peers at her questioningly, not following her logic. "Oh, Edward, do you not see? You are a vital component of this kingdom, without you, Carlisle will surely fumble, and make no mistake, my father is simply waiting for his opportunity."

Relief floods through Edward's system, because this, he can manage. What he cannot manage is the thought that Bella would let him go. He stands and pulls her to her feet so he can sit on the bed, spreading his legs so that she may fit between them. He props his hands on her hips and his head on her stomach, just breathing her in. She responds by running her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

After several quiet minutes of absorbing her calming presence, he finally lifts his head. "When I first saw you, I should have fallen upon my knees and thanked God for delivering you to me. But instead, I chose to honor my word, and I gave you to Carlisle. I have regretted that decision, but I knew it was the right one for the very reasons you are referencing. I love my country, Bella, but I love you more. I cannot allow my fear over its future to keep us apart any longer."

"As sad as it is, I completely agree, Edward," Bella says, leaning down so that they are eye to eye. "I love you, and I do not wish to live my life with anyone else." She kisses him then, slow and soft, to solidify her words. "What are we to do then?" she asks as she pulls away.

Edward stands and twists her so that they are back to chest before retaking his seat on the edge of her bed. "It will not be easy, I fear," he says as he begins unlacing the corset of her gown. "I must first find us a suitable locale in which to escape, and Olympia's lands are vast, so crossing its borders will be tricky."

"You have made no preparations?" Bella asks, and her voice is husky as her gown slips from her shoulders.

A peek of her creamy skin is enough to dry Edward's lips, so he wets them before responding. "I have not." His voice breaks, and he has to clear his throat. "It was only earlier when I decided I could not lose you."

He cannot stop himself, he stands and trails his tongue across her neck while his fingers still work with the ties. "Are you positive this is what you want, Edward? You cannot give me hope only to once again snatch it away. I will not survive."

With the laces completely open, the gown slips to her waist, leaving only her thin chemise. His hands reach around, cementing her soft body against his hard one. "I am yours, Bella. I promise I will never again willingly let you go."

Bella takes the initiative and spins in his arms, meeting his eyes. "Then take me, Edward. Please. I have missed you so much."

Edward does not even think, he just feels. His lips aggressively take her as his hands claw at her gown to push it down her hips. When she is free, he lifts her, and they both fall back upon the large bed in a twine of limbs with heated lips and labored breaths echoing between them.

Bella cannot be sure in her lust-filled state, but she believes the muscle her hands roam is even more pronounced than she remembers. Tense and hard his body slides against hers, as his lips lower to devour any available skin.

Her fingers slip under the waistband of his trousers and tug his shirt free so that their skin will finally meet. A sigh escapes upon contact, but it only lasts momentarily, because she wants more.

She wants it all.

"Please, I … I need to feel you," she begs, pulling at the offending material separating their skin.

"Shh, Bella," Edward coos as he lifts to his elbows above her. "You are so beautiful like this." His finger traces the pink of her skin as her chest heaves with heavy breaths. "I never thought I would see you again this way." He runs his tongue across the swells above her gaping chemise. "Or taste your flesh upon my tongue." His hand slides low down her side, gripping the thin fabric and pushing it back up her body. "I am going to savor every moment I have with you."

By this point, Bella is a heated mess below him, squirming in urgency for him to do something to quell the fire that is racing under her skin. Each excruciating second that passes is almost unbearable, for she needs him desperately. Tired of being toyed with, she lifts the hem of his shirt and quickly pulls it upward, exposing his hard flesh to her wandering mouth.

A low hiss escapes Edward as she closes her lips around his nipple and tugs slightly. But it is just enough to spur him into action. Rising to his knees, he discards the shirt swiftly and moves to release the pressure in his breeches. Her hot, needy hands are there aiding him, and it is almost too much for him to handle.

Standing quickly, Edward discards them along with his braies to stand bare before Bella. When she reaches for him, he props one knee upon the bed and crawls up her body with his hands and lips until he reaches the chemise that is lodged at her waist. She rises and assists as he lifts it over her head.

Now fully nude, their skin hums as it greets its counterpart. Hands and mouths explore greedily until the moment when neither can wait any longer. Edward's hand slides lower to the juncture of her thighs and through the slickness that has gathered there.

"Please, Edward," Bella pants, her body undulating against his, desperately needing more than his fingers can provide.

"Tell me what you need, Bella," Edward says, his voice a low growl as he dips a finger inside to spread her juices. "Do you want me to fill you here?"

All Edward receives is a moan, but he takes as it approval. He sits back on his haunches, bringing his fingers to his lips where they disappear inside, causing him to harden even further. The simmering spark in Bella's eyes turns into a full fire as she witnesses his actions, and she cannot wait any longer.

Bella's demanding hands reach for him, poising Edward above her. As their scorching flesh clashes, she sighs in contentment, roaming the hard planes that line his back. When he takes himself in hand, she clamps tight upon his shoulders, bracing for the moment when she will again feel whole.

Their eyes connect as he pushes his tip through her wetness and gently slips inside. Bella's eyes fall closed at the sensation, but Edward halts. "Look at me, Bella," he demands, his voice low and hard. "When I enter your hot cunt, I need to see you." Her eyes snap back open, and he pushes in slightly harder. Her heat envelops him, causing his jaw to clench. "That's it, watch me as I fill you." With one final thrust, he sheaths himself completely inside.

Bella's body arches as a sensation of utter completeness moves through her. Being with Edward like this again is something she never thought would come to pass, and now that it is, she intends to cherish every single aspect. The intensity of his gaze. His muscles as they contract under her palms. The push and pull of his pelvis as he fills her over and over. The feel of his lips as they devour her skin. It all combines together to build an immense sense of pleasure inside her.

With each thrust, Edward has to fight harder and harder to hold back. He so desperately wishes to claim her completely, yet he also wants to worship her fully. His body is fighting hard for an in between; one where he can appreciate her in ways which he has only fantasized.

Bella's breathing increases and her neck arches, causing her eyes to fall closed as a low moan escapes her lips. Edward recognizes the signs and holds his pace as her ecstasy builds to feverish heights. When her muscles begin to contract around him, he has to clench his jaw and fight hard to keep pace.

As her whimpers fill the space, Edward delights in the feel of her gripping him again and again, until she slowly begins to relax beneath him. It is at that point when he finally lets go, thrusting into her as deep as possible before pulling out and shooting his seed onto her bare stomach.

Spent and fulfilled in a way neither thought would be possible again, the lovers clean up from her wash basin and hold each other tight as their eyes fall closed.

* * *

 **I swear, you're getting a T fic next! Sex is so hard to write. Okay, enough complaining. I need to apologize yet again for not replying to all reviews. This writing chapters the week before they post is for the birds. I'm accustomed to being ahead, and I just can't get there with this one yet. I haven't even finished Monday's chapter, though it's close. So if you don't hear from me, just know that I love every word you leave!**

 **P.S. cunt isn't a word I like, but it's the word of the times**

 **See you Monday :)**


	16. Pulling Back

**Thanks to Fran for getting this back super-fast, and 2browneyes and Judyblue for reading them for me!**

* * *

Isabella stretches her arms lazily as her mind slowly ebbs from the dark recesses of sleep. Even before she is fully alert, an urgency moves through her as she struggles to clear her hazy mind. There is something important pressing at the edges, begging to be brought to the forefront.

With a gasp, she suddenly bolts upright and peers around the room. The muted morning light shines through the window, dusting her bed in a soft golden glow. Her hand jumps to the cool empty spot beside her and her eyes follow.

Edward is gone.

A slight jab of anxiety shoots through her, but she swallows it back, for she has no choice but to believe that Edward was truthful. She does still ponder why he failed to wake her, but it is only momentarily, because sounds in the hall draw her attention.

Though the words being spoken are not clear, she can hear the tenor of the voices. One is sure to be her handmaiden, yet it swiftly becomes apparent the second belongs to a man, and not a random man, but King Carlisle himself.

Unease simmers under her skin with the thought of facing him, but it is nothing compared to the panic she feels as she prays he will not enter her chambers. For as she takes stock of herself and her surroundings, scattered clothes and naked flesh span as far as the eye can see.

Before she can make a move to rectify the situation, the door swings open, and a relieved sigh escapes her lips. "Angela."

"My Lady." Her maiden curtsies. "I only barely caught him in time!"

"What do you mean?" Isabella asks, her confidence returned. "Tis not customary for him to enter my chambers without an escort."

Angela crosses her arms and eyes her princess suspiciously. "He has the impression that your relationship has … advanced." She lifts a stern brow at Isabella. "Though I cannot imagine why."

Isabella's shoulders slump in defeat. Though she does not wish to relay the events of last night to Angela, she feels it is her obligation. She is under no illusions that the path she has chosen for them both is perilous; therefore, it is her duty to make sure her maiden is well-informed. So with shame in her voice, Isabella relays the entire fiasco of last evening.

"Oh, My Lady," Angela says as she approaches the bed to sit in front of her princess. Gathering her hands, she says, "I am sorry that you were pushed to that point, but you must understand that I hold Sir Edward responsible. His inability to make a decision and stay firm is making your life harder than necessary."

Isabella balls her hands into fists and removes them from Angela's grasp. "I have chosen Edward. This is not up for debate. He was slow to make his decision, but I have forgiven him. I cannot force you to do the same, but speaking ill of him will get us nowhere."

"I apologize." Angela bows her head. "I have cared for you my whole life, and it is true that I see the happiness between you and your knight, yet I cannot deny that the prospect of how it will all turn out terrifies me."

Isabella understands Angela's fears, and she even harbors a modicum of guilt since her decision is the cause of those emotions, but she is still unwilling to change course. She leans forward and hugs her maiden tightly.

Pulling back, she grasps Angela's shoulders firmly. "Would you like me to relieve you of your burden?"

"No, My Lady, no!" Angela says as she shakes her head vigorously. "I would never desert you." She reaches up and cups her princess' cheek. "I have watched you grow from a babe into a beautiful woman, and my life is yours. If death is the cost for your chance at happiness, then so be it."

Tears leak down Isabella's face, but Angela wipes them away. "Do not cry, My Lady. Serving you has been my pleasure, and it will remain so for as long as we both shall live." She lets Isabella go and leans back, eyeing the naked shoulder of her princess that peeks from beneath the blanket. "Now, your betrothed is expecting you."

"What?" Isabella asks, her eyes wide.

"Yes, My Lady. We have already taken too much time as it is," Angela replies, already in the process of selecting Isabella's gown for the day. "He wishes you to join him for the morning meal."

Though the thought makes Isabella queasy, she is still his future wife, and it is her duty to fulfill that role until alternate arrangements can be made. So with trepidation in her bones and Angela's assistance, she dresses and then sits as her hair is woven into an intricate design. She uses this time as an attempt to clear her mind and prepare for her upcoming ordeal.

Her last visage of Carlisle was immediately after their kiss, and even then, Isabella was already having regret, but it was still her intent to follow through. Now, the events of last night have brought about a complete reversal. She does not know exactly what she can do differently, but discouraging the king has to be among her actions, for she does not wish to betray him further by misleading his affections.

The walk down the stairway is filled with silence as the two women make their way to meet King Carlisle. Each is lost to her own thoughts as they quietly contemplate a very vague, possibly perilous, future.

Before they enter the dining hall, Isabella pauses to collect herself one final time before picking up her pace and strutting forth with as much confidence as she can muster. It falters slightly, though, when Carlisle stands, a beaming smile on his face.

The guilt nags at her, but it is not enough to lessen her resolve. Stiffening her spine, she approaches the king with a formality that has previously been lacking.

"Good morning, My Lord." She curtsies and then moves to take her seat, but he is quick to rush over and assist her—even though his brows have furrowed.

"Isabella," he says with a stern note to his tone. "I thought we had reached an understanding on this matter."

Isabella holds the prim set of her shoulders as she watches him move to his chair beside her. Once he is fully seated, she says, "Forgive me, My Lord. I wish to apologize for allowing the lines to blur. I shall be your wife on the Ides, but until that point, I must insist that we remain cordial and proper."

King Carlisle is watching her face curiously, and he cannot help but wonder what could have possibly changed overnight. Has he pushed her too far with his advances? He felt his actions were patient and considerate, always giving her room to retreat if she felt unsure.

He clears his throat and pins her with his blue eyes. "Is something wrong, Isabella? Have I offended you in some way?"

"No, My Lord." Isabella's eyes fall to her hands, which are fidgeting on the table. "It is hard to explain, actually, but last night has only confused me further." She lifts her eyes to meet his fully. "But I am certain I am not ready for that level of intimacy."

Though it is a disheartening setback for Carlisle, he has no choice but to accept her words. His only hope is that she will not remain frozen in this state forever. Losing one's love is heartbreaking, as he well knows, so the very least he can offer her is time.

"I understand, sweet girl," Carlisle says as a gentle smile curves his lips. "I can be patient when the goal is worth reaching. Just know that when you are ready to move forth, I will be here for you, whether it be before the wedding or after."

A sharp stab of guilt pierces Isabella's heart because there will be no wedding, but the overwhelming emotion that fills her is relief.

She has accomplished her goal.

While keeping up the pretense of her current betrothal, Isabella has left her heart free to belong to Edward alone.

* * *

 **It's killing me not replying to reviews! I know you'd rather have words, but that's something I always do, and I just can't get ahead. I'm so sorry! I doubt this is what you were hoping to see this chapter, but in my mind, every chapter has a purpose. I do have a tiny one for you Thursday, and I promise to get next week's chapters started today!**

 **Don't forget that PIF is hosting a We Love Mobward contest! I'll add the FF link to my profile if you want to follow.**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	17. Powerful Duo

**Fran betas, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read.**

* * *

For the past two days, Isabella has carried on with her life as the king's bride to be. She has spent her mornings with Carlisle himself, dining with him for breakfast and discussing their upcoming day. After her daily stroll through the garden, she has her afternoon meal on the terrace before meeting Lady Kate to work on the finer details of her impending nuptials.

Isabella's nights have been lonely, and sleep has been fitful. She has not spoken to or even caught a glimpse of Edward since their encounter two nights ago. The minor anxiousness she felt when she first awoke has now sprouted into full-blown concern.

 _Has he deserted her?_

 _Was he caught slipping from her chambers?_

Isabella is not sure, and it is causing her tensions to rise. "We are already receiving wedding gifts, and guests will begin arriving almost a fortnight in advance," King Carlisle says, breaking Isabella from her thoughts.

Isabella nods absently. "Lady Kate showed me the guest list yesterday. Are we sure so many attendees are necessary?" She sits her goblet on the table and turns to Carlisle with sincere eyes.

King Carlisle recognizes her reasons for resistance immediately, but while he is giving her space romantically, she must also learn that politically they are a powerful duo who command respect from their allies.

"Isabella," he starts, his tone not reprimanding but firmer than he would ordinarily use. "Our foundation may not be as solid as I would like, but you must understand the importance of your role. Not only is the lone king of Olympia finally taking a bride, but he is to wed to the daughter of his fiercest rival. It is not only are our allies who are eager to witness such an occasion but our enemies as well. This is a victory for our kingdom, a celebratory event. I apologize, but there is no way I can deny my people the opportunity to rejoice in this momentous occasion."

The ever present guilt gnaws at Isabella's insides, but this time, along with that guilt comes a surge of anger. She hates this uncertainty, and with Edward's absence that it exactly how she feels. Conversations like this would be much easier to handle if she had more confidence in Edward's late-night promises.

Her jaw ticks slightly, but Isabella forces herself to relax. "I understand, My Lord. It is not my wish to impede on the people's victory."

King Carlisle reaches his hand over, but before he can touch her, she withdraws. His brows furrow, yet he holds his tongue. This is a battle Isabella will have to conquer on her own. All he can do is show her that he is not giving up.

"I know this may be tough for you, Isabella, but I think if you would allow yourself, you will see that moving on is a part of learning to live again," Carlisle says as he stands to depart from the room.

As he leaves, Isabella's shame only grows. King Carlisle is a fine man, and her actions are hurting him. And not only that, she is beginning to second guess not only herself but Edward as well. There must be a more humane solution than the mess she is making.

If only she could fathom what that is.

* * *

 **Very short, I know! I had intentions of moving this scene into what is next, until I typed that last line. Sometimes that just happens. It'll work better this way, I think.**

 **Since I haven't been replying, I want to explain (my thought process anyway) a question I've gotten several times.** _ **Why can't they just tell him?**_ **At this point, this marriage is a grand political event. Carlisle can't just very well announce,** _ **Oops, we made a mistake, she belongs to Edward,**_ **even if he was okay with it all. Love wasn't a factor in marriages and women had no say. Isabella is attempting to choose for herself, but it may cost her in the end. I know you feel for Carlisle, *snickers* that was my intent, but I do have a plan, and it most likely won't be what it looks like ;)**

 **See you Monday with a longer chapter :)**


	18. Secret Passage

**Beta'd by the fab Fran, and pre-read by Judyblue and 2browneyes!**

* * *

Once Isabella is in the garden, she strolls silently beside Angela, her mind lost to things over which she has no control. Her whole life is that way, really, but this once, she has decided to take fate into her own hands. Only now, once again, she is beginning to doubt herself. The very man whom she put all her love and faith into has disappeared, leaving her to travel a rocky, unsure path alone.

With a deep sigh, she moves to a bed of flowers and kneels to inhale their sweet fragrance. The aroma infiltrates her mind, and she closes her eyes, allowing it to calm the anxiety that rolls through her in waves.

Though Edward has never seen a lovelier sight, he notes the tension around her closed eyes and cannot help but feel it is all his fault. He almost destroyed them both with his indecisive actions, and it very well may still happen. But as he gazes upon her, he knows there is no changing course.

She belongs with him.

He takes a silent step forth and gently lays his hand upon her shoulder, causing her to gasp and her eyes to land on his. "Edward," she says almost in disbelief as she rises and pulls him tightly to her.

It feels so good to hold her like this, yet Edward knows they have to be more careful now than ever before. He releases her and steps back to put a respectable distance between them. Her brows immediately furrow, but he hurries to soothe her concerns.

Smoothing her brow, he says, "I have missed you, but we must be careful."

The relief is evident in her eyes and by the way her shoulders relax. "Thank God you are okay. I have been so worried. Why did you not wake me before you left?"

"Come," Edward says, motioning for her to join him. "We have much to discuss."

It is then when Isabella looks around and realizes they are alone; Angela is nowhere to be found. Just as she is about to question her handmaiden's disappearance, Edward urgently says, "I will explain everything, but we must get out of the open."

With those words, Bella falls into step beside her beloved, immediately curious as to where they are headed. They twine through several different paths, each leading further into the garden. By the time Edward stops, Bella feels they must be almost to the farthest perimeter. He moves some heavy foliage aside to reveal a small, overgrown pathway. With a sweeping gesture, he urges Bella to enter before him.

Once they are enclosed behind the brush, Edward loops his arm around Bella's waist and pulls her back against his chest where he can fully savor their closeness. She melts against him with no prodding whatsoever, as she has missed him and needs to feel their connection desperately. Minutes pass as they simply enjoy the feel of their bodies pressed close.

With a deep inhale of her fragrance, Edward finally releases her. "We must keep moving."

She glances at him questioningly, as she assumed this was their destination. For the first time in a very long time, a smile so breathtaking spreads across his lips that Bella almost stumbles when she attempts to move forth.

His deep chuckle resonates against her back as he preempts her fall. "I would like to take you somewhere special to me."

Bella tilts her head up and smiles. "Lead the way." With a grand flourish, she steps away and motions with her hand.

Though his smile is less stunning than earlier, it is still present upon his lips, and this time, it is aided by a teasing spark in his eyes. Taking her hand in his as he passes her, Edward begins leading them further down the overgrown pathway. He takes care to clear the passage as they progress into thicker brush.

Once they reach a steep rocky incline, Edward pauses and releases Bella's hand. "Stand here please." He begins sliding his fingers along the various edges of the moss covered rock. "It has been years since anyone has been here. Just a moment"—he pauses, and his face looks triumphant—"ah, here we are."

Edward uses both his hands in a twisting motion, and Bella is almost on her tiptoes, curious to what he could possibly be doing. After a hard fought battle, the iron wheel spins and the rock before them shifts. Bella takes a step back on instinct. Edward only gives her a smirk before clearing the debris away from the opening and gripping the crack.

Bella stands stunned as she watches Edward open an old iron door that was completely concealed to the naked eye. A dark cavern appears before her, and when Edward turns to her beaming, she can only lift her brow in return.

A chuckle escapes, and it seems nothing can deter his jovial mood. "It is just another passageway, Bella."

"But … it is dark," she replies as she attempts to see even a few paces into the space.

"I came prepared," Edward replies, pulling a satchel from his shoulder that Bella had failed to notice prior to now.

He squats and pulls out several supplies. The first thing he does is stand and drape a tattered blanket over Bella's shoulders. "Hopefully this will help keep the elements off."

Bella keeps her eyes on him as he crouches and pulls out a small, metal tinderbox. Inside is a candle and flint, nestled on a bed of kindling. Edward hands the candle to Bella while he takes a knife from his hip and begins striking it down the flint. After several tries, the kindling ignites, and he looks up at her, taking the candle with a boyish smile.

"Come," Edward says, standing and holding out his hand.

Bella looks at him with uncertainty, but trusting him with everything inside her, she takes his hand as they enter the dark space. She is quite surprised, however, once they are inside. The passage is formed from stone and has steps that descend downward. The walls are almost patterned, the surface rough and cool to the touch, and the air is musty, almost stagnant.

The candle lights the path before them as Edward brushes away the errant cobwebs that have collected over the years. On the very bottom step, Bella almost stumbles, but Edward is quick to catch her. He carefully guides her across the flat path as a rushing sound starts to infiltrate the quiet.

"What is that?" Bella asks as he releases her arm.

"It is just the moat," Edward replies nonchalantly,

"The moat!" Bella shrieks, halting in her spot.

Again with a chuckle, Edward nudges her forward and replies, "This tunnel was built at the same time as the castle. It was to be an escape route for the king if the enemy ever made it inside the walls. Sadly, King William never made it this far; he was slaughtered in the gardens. Jasper and I discovered it as boys and learned the history, but it is long forgotten by most. However, we know every nook and cranny inside these walls." He stops suddenly and meets Bella's eyes, all playfulness now gone. "Were something to happen, at any time, I want you to use this passage."

Bella is stunned by the sudden seriousness in his tone. "But—"

"No!" Edward says harsher than he intends. He realizes this and softens his stance, allowing her to see the uncertainty in his eyes. "Bella, my lack of honesty to my king has endangered our lives. I am going to fight with every last breath to get us out of this situation and away from here, but were something unseemly to happen, I need to know that you will live. Promise me you will flee if our treachery is discovered!"

"Edward," Bella starts softly.

"No, Isabella, promise me!" Edward's eyes have hardened, and his posture is tense.

Bella feels as if she has no choice at this moment but to acquiesce. "I promise," she says, though in her heart she is not sure if she really means it.

"Good." Edward relaxes and heaves a deep breath. "Let us get out of here."

He takes her hand in his free one, guiding them to the other end of the tunnel where another set of steps lead to their exit. Handing Bella the candle, he finds yet another iron wheel and forces it into submission as he did upon entering. Cracking open the door, a heavily wooded area is revealed to them the on the other side.

He leaves the candle burning inside the passage and retakes her hand. "Not much further now. We are in the forest, outside the castle walls."

Now that they are in the light again, Bella's glances around at the large trees that surround them. "Where would I even go, were I to escape here, Edward?"

Edward ignores her question momentarily as he winds them down another path before they break into a small clearing. It is nothing very special but provides an open area where he draws her to the center.

"Here we are. I played here many times as a boy." He motions around them as Bella's eyes follow. "Give me your blanket."

After spreading it upon the ground, Edward kneels and holds out his hand to assist Bella. "I realize it is time for the midday meal." He brings his satchel off his shoulder once more and begins pulling out items wrapped in cloth. "I have bread, cheese and ale."

Bella settles down onto the blanket, confusion muddling her mind. "Edward, are you not worried my presence will be missed?"

He does not even look at her; he simply continues with his activities of setting out their food. She remains silent and watches until he has no other choice but to meet her eyes. "Angela is covering for you," he states simply and offers her bread and cheese.

"No," she snaps, holding her hands up to refuse him. "Stop this. We are here, and now we must talk. _Really talk_ ," she emphasizes, crossing her arms over her chest.

Edward sighs and places the food to the side, moving closer to Bella, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I have missed you so much," he says before his lips descend upon hers. And even though she is upset with him, she cannot refuse his advances.

As soon as his lips land upon hers, Bella realizes how much she needs this reassurance. The past two days have worn on her, causing her to doubt both Edward and herself. And while she still has questions, the fact that he is here, kissing her as if his very life depends on it, wipes away her apprehension.

Bella banishes all thought and absorbs Edward instead.

His lips that press against hers.

The heavy breaths as his mouth opens to tug her bottom lip.

His tongue as it invades her senses.

The hard muscles of his arms as her hands travel up them to twine around his neck.

The deep rumble that builds in his chest as he lays her down beneath him.

And finally, her dismay when he suddenly sits up and turns away from her.

* * *

 **Okay, here's what we're going to do. I still have to finish Thursday's chapter (but it's half done, at least). So this week, you'll get 2, but starting next week, we're going to scale back to one a week for maybe like 4 weeks. I just need some time to get a little ahead, and I have 2 side projects I need to get started on, too. Now, during those 4 weeks, if I have another short (less than 1k) chapter then you'll get 2 that week, but I only have 1 of those planned, I think. This should give me a chance to get a couple ahead and work on those other two things.**

 **And I can reply again starting next week! I know y'all don't mind, but it drives me crazy not to answer some of these reviews.**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	19. Facing Carlisle

**Fran beta's this fic, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read for me!**

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Edward fights to regain his breath after their very intense kiss. Her mouth is so intoxicating that he almost succumbed to the pleasure. But he cannot. There is much to be discussed; plans to make and safeguards that must be put in place. Their actions are now considered treasonous, and he will do everything he can to ensure his Bella survives.

Edward had quickly fallen into a deep sleep after their passionate liaison only nights ago, but it did not last long. He woke with a start, his breath quick and heavy from the images that had played behind his lids. His mind had envisioned their death and destruction and that was enough to push him from the bed and into action.

Closing his eyes, he draws a deep breath before turning to her again, hoping she can see the apology he is trying to convey. "I love you, Bella, but we cannot allow ourselves to get lost in the flesh. The essence of who you are means more to me than what I can gain from your body."

Edward's words wash over Bella like a balm, instantly soothing her concern. "I understand. We are quite a pair, are we not?" She attempts a laugh, but it comes out half-hearted.

"We are two people in a circumstance that was avoidable," he says, bowing his head and breaking eye contact, "because I did this to us, and it is I who will repair the damage."

Bella reaches over and lifts her beloved's chin. "We cannot change the past, Edward. All we can do is plot a new future and hope for the best."

Edward rubs his hand over his aching chest. "It pains me greatly to hear you speak so casually of the darkness we face. If there were any way for me to go back and change my decision, please know that I would."

"I do know that, but I also know that without you, I am in complete darkness. At least with you, there are rays of light," Bella responds, taking his hand and holding it with her own. "I know you cannot change the beginning of this fiasco, but is it not possible to set it right?"

Edward's brows furrow as he struggles with her meaning. "That is what I wish to do. I have been making plans for us … for our future together."

"You misunderstand," Bella says, shaking her head. "I do not mean running away. I mean facing Carlisle. With the truth."

"No!" Edward barks so suddenly that Bella withdraws on instinct. Realizing what he has done, he runs his hand through his hair, gripping it tightly, in an attempt to rein in the fear that surges through him. "I apologize, but you must understand that admitting our treasonous acts to the king is a death sentence."

Though Bella understands Edward's need to protect her, she cannot, in good conscience, allow him to condemn them to a life on the run when there is another option. The Carlisle she knows is a fair and compassionate man, who feels for his lead knight as one would a son. She cannot imagine him being pleased with the prolonged explanation, but when faced with the truth of their situation, she can see him acting no other way than sympathetic.

She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin stubbornly. "The actions you are describing are not those of the king I have come to know." Edward opens his mouth to respond, but Bella stops him with a look. "Carlisle is a kind and fair king who has raised you and loves you as a son. Tell me," she says, softening her tone, "what would have happened at the tournament if you had told him you were in love with me?"

Edward's eyes cast down in shame, for he knows his king would have been astounded, but also pleased to see his warrior actually reconnected with the women who saved him. In those first, few paralyzing moments of shock and dismay, Edward made an erroneous decision that will haunt all three of them forever.

When he lifts his eyes back to Bella's, they are filled with sorrow. "I know I made a mistake, Bella. I am sorry, so, so sorry, but I cannot take it back. It is done."

"Edward." Bella sighs and shifts her body closer to him. "I do not wish you to continue apologizing, but I do wish for you to consider who your king is on the inside. Do you really think he would kill us?"

"I think he would have no choice," Edward replies, his tone now surer. "You must understand that it would be expected, the people would demand it. My death at the very least, and that I can handle, but he could choose to make an example of you also, and with that, I cannot live."

Bella shrugs. "At least we would die together."

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 **We'll pick up right here next week, probably Tuesday since the hubs is off Monday. I have you a good detail-y chapter for next week!**

 **See you then :)**


	20. Eve of the Ides

**Fran betas, and I only added like 600 words after she was done, so all mistakes are mine! Judyblue and 2browneyes pre-read :)**

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Edward reacts so swiftly that neither expects it. He grips her arms forcefully, and his eyes blaze as he brings their faces closer together. "Do not say that!"

Bella is equally as passionate, but she displays it differently. Wetness gathers in her eyes as she yanks her arms up and grasps his cheeks tightly. "Do you not understand, Edward, I would rather die beside you than live without you!"

A crack forms in Edward's chest upon hearing her confession, and his eyes fall closed to avoid the tears of outrage he has brought about. This is not what he wants. His only wish is to be with her, to escape somewhere safe and spend the rest of their days together.

 _Why can she not see this?_

Before he has collected himself completely, soft lips pass across his, and though he wishes he could resist, he cannot fight the pull. She is inside him, tearing him apart at the seams and sewing him back together. Without her, he realizes with sudden certainty, there is no life.

The epiphany that she feels exactly the same rockets through him.

Edward pulls away, their lips barely touching, and says, "I understand now."

With his complete surrender, the lover's fall into kisses that are soft but passionate. Taking and giving. There is no impatience to their movements as they simply indulge in each other and savor their bond. Much is left to be said, but for this instant, they are openly reveling in their intimacy with soft passes of their tongues and the occasional sigh.

Edward and Bella slowly part with gentles pecks and tender caresses. Their burning desire simmers underneath their skin, but it is contained by the gravity of their situation. Their time is short, and if they are to escape, it must be done with precision.

Edward grips Bella's nape and pushes his forehead against hers. "I want us to live a long happy life, and I have begun the preparations to make that happen. Please say you will go with me?"

Though Bella is not quite ready to give up her quest for Edward to inform the king, she does realize this will not be the occasion in which he concedes. So, for now, she gives up the fight with a heavy sigh.

"Of course, I will go with you," she breathes as she places an open-mouthed kiss upon his top lip, simply wanting to bask in their stolen moment.

Though Edward loves the feel of her lips upon him, there are more pressing matters in which to tend. With her agreement comes responsibility. He pulls away from her kiss. "I would love nothing more than to take you right here, Bella, but we have a future to discuss." His broad smile from earlier returns, and he tugs on her arm, prodding her to shift her body between his legs.

Once they are settled, back to chest, Edward brings a bite of cheese to Bella's lips. "You eat, I will talk."

Bella cannot help but tease him with her mouth, enclosing it over his fingers and swirling her tongue around, sucking them clean. His groan reverberates against her back, causing Bella to snicker to herself. But she is not very stealthy, and in return, those same fingers attack her sides.

Her breathy giggles are music to Edward's ears, and he cannot help but to want to capture this moment to savor forever. This snapshot in time is what he strives for their life to be like, a bright future where they can laugh and love openly.

Edward's fingers stop their movement, but the smile does not leave his lips. This moment has given him something he can look forward to. Nuzzling her neck, he says, "I love seeing you so happy and carefree, but our time is dwindling." He places one more delicate kiss to her cheek before becoming serious once more. "As soon as I left your bed the other night, I started plotting. I do not think you will approve of the timeline, but I assure you, Bella, if there were another way, one equally as safe, I would gladly change things."

Edward pauses and brings the chuck of bread up, offering her a bite and then taking one of his own. He then washes it down with a swallow of ale before handing her the vessel for her to take her own dainty sip.

As Bella hands the container back to Edward, she buries the question that is troubling her and asks a simple one instead. "Will you tell me your plans so far?"

Edward's frame tenses slightly against hers. "I will share anything with you, but … is that the question you really want to ask?"

"It is not," she responds, shaking her head absently. "Tell me the timeline, Edward."

Edward anchors his arms around her waist in order to prepare them both for his unfortunate news. "We shall leave on the eve of the wedding."

"What!" Bella attempts to move, but his arms only hold her tighter. It does not stop her neck from twisting and her eyes to focus on him with complete incredulity. "Why would you punish me so? Do you not realize how hard it has been for me to face King Carlisle since our liaison? And now, you wish me to keep pretending?" Her eyes pierce him, and when he gives no response, she shakes her head sadly. "That is cruelty at its finest, Edward. He will surely have our heads if we are ever caught."

Edward moves his hand up and cups her jaw, peering at her fiercely. "We will not be caught. Ever!" He breathes deeply in an attempt to cool his ire. The thought of his Bella's life as forfeit brings a rage he is barely able to control—a rage where he would personally slay the king if necessary. "Listen to me, it is the only way. Of course, I do not wish to see you carry on this charade before my very eyes, but once the attendees have arrived at the castle, our path will be clear. Do you not see? I am choosing the safest time to make our escape."

"And do you have an escape route planned? A final destination in mind?" Bella asks, her skepticism fading due to the desperation in his voice.

"I do," Edward replies with a nod, his grip on her cheek softening. "Everything is not entirely in place, but the most treacherous part of our journey, traveling out of Olympia, has been planned to the finest detail. The lands are vast, which is both good and bad. Good because it is easy to get lost, but bad because it will take us days to reach the border. Once we make it out of the country, our heads are more likely to remain attached."

Bella lacks Edward's confidence in his plan, but right now, she has no better option to offer aside from her previous failed attempt of informing the king. "When will we leave?"

He brushes his thumb along her cheek before dropping his hand. "Late afternoon on the eve of the Ides." He swallows, unsure how the next details will be received. "Someone at the castle will assist us. Over the next fortnight, she will show Angela the various passageways you will be using to secretly exit the castle, and I will meet you and Angela at the tunnel entrance. She will also cover for your disappearance until it is time for the wedding. We will have almost a full day's lead."

Bella's brows have drawn higher and higher with each new aspect of his plan, but only one word comes to mind when he stops speaking. "She?"

A loud, abrupt chuckle erupts from Edward. "Yes, she. And do not misunderstand, she is an unusual woman, but she is on our side."

"You told her?" Bella asks slowly, confounded by this new development.

Edward tilts his head as he tries to work through how to answer her query. "No, but she knows, and has warned that if we do not accept her assistance, we will fail."

Each answer he gives is only confusing her further. "Who is she, Edward?" Bella finally asks, a plan to seek out this _helpful stranger_ already forming in her mind.

He shrugs. "Just a castle wench, I doubt—" He stops mid-sentence, and his eyes widen. "No, I have seen you speak with her, when you first arrived. Her name is Alice. A tiny woman with short dark hair and eyes."

Bella's eyes widen, and she bursts into laughter, everything falling into place—except one thing. "You said she is a _wench_?" Her nose crinkles as she says the word.

Edward nods. "Do you remember speaking with her?"

Bella only rolls her eyes. "Edward, if you are referring to Lady Alice of Tacoma, of course, I know her. She has been overseeing the construction of my gown."

Edward stares at Bella as he tries to comprehend her words. "She is a … Lady?"

"Of course. Why else would Carlisle allow Jasper to court her?"

"Okay," Edward responds, still quite stunned at this new revelation. "Do … does she say strange things to you?"

Bella's brows furrow as she considers his words. "She is an eccentric lady, but she has been nothing but kind to me. I do not understand how she knows about us, though."

Edward worries his bottom lip; afraid Bella is going to think he is daft. "She claims to _see_ things, and while it is an outrageous declaration, the statements she has made have me convinced that her help is useful."

Bella considers this and decides that she must have confidence in Edward's judgement. "Shall I let her know we have spoken?"

Edward snorts. "My guess is she already knows."

"How could she?" Bella asks, befuddled by this conversation which has veered off in an unexpected direction. "I only know because I am here."

"Trust me, Bella," Edward says. "I do not understand it myself. She will come to you and Angela soon. Just wait for it."

"Are you sure we can trust her?" Bella asks her final question on this subject.

"I cannot be sure of anything, Bella. But she came to me, knowing way more than anyone should. I think we have no other choice but to trust her." Edward pulls her closer against him, and she relaxes at his touch. "She says we belong together, and I agree. All we can do is hope that she truly believes it."

"And King Carlisle?" Bella asks softly.

Edward heaves a heavy sigh, his breath blowing hot on her neck. "It is going to torture me, but play your part. Be Isabella, future Queen of Olympia, in his presence. Our lives depend on it."

"Of course," Bella says with a definitive nod, her fingers absently drawing circles on his thigh. Her voice softens as she continues, "While you were away, I redrew the lines between he and I. I had allowed things to progress too far, and in good conscience, I could not continue to lead him on under false pretenses. It was my mistake for giving him hope in the first place, so I corrected it."

Edward's eyes fall closed, his heart beating erratically inside his chest upon hearing her words. Though he prayed he would not have to witness their interactions, he never expected that his sweet Bella would put herself on the line to ensure it. He almost cannot contain the gratitude he feels at this moment.

"Bella," he says, his voice a low groan. "Do you realize what you do to me with words such as those." He nips her shoulder. "I wish to strip you bare and have you amongst the trees." He runs his tongue along the outer shell of her ear. "I wholeheartedly apologize for leaving you in such a position."

"Twas the right thing to do," Bella says as a pleasurous sigh escapes.

"My Bella, always doing the right thing," he whispers before tugging her lobe. "Such bravery in the face of uncertainty. I cannot wait for the day you are mine completely." He nibbles along her jaw and ends with a slow, sensual kiss before sighing deeply. "But, for now, our time is up, and I must return you."

Chills race over Bella's skin at the same time as fire lights in the pit of her belly. She grips his thighs more firmly. "Please do not tease me so, Edward. I need you."

He kisses up her neck once more and runs his hands down to cover hers. "Tonight. I will come to you."

Bella's head falls back against his chest as she attempts to regain control of her wanton body. After several deep breaths, she is as composed as she can be. "Let us return then."

Edward assists Bella to her feet and hastily stuffs his belongings back into his satchel. He reaches for her hand and secures it at his elbow. "Are you sure I cannot convince you to run were the worst to happen?"

"Edward," Bella says, squeezing his arm for effect. "Whatever our fate may be, it will be together."

Edward sighs heavily and stops, spinning to face his beloved. Lifting his hands, he frames her face. "I love you, my Bella. There will never be another for me, and as hard as it is to accept, I do understand how you feel because it is the same for me. I would do anything to erase the uncertainty we now face."

Bella smiles and reaches up to grasp his wrists tightly. "I will gladly take uncertainty now as long as I can have you for the rest of my life."

Amongst the large trees on an overgrown pathway, Edward leans down and brushes his lips against Bella's. It is a soft and gentle pass, but the emotion between them lights a spark. One hand pushes around to grasp her nape while the other slides down to pull her body flush against his. Their tongues meet, and heat explodes, causing each to delve deeper, seek more of the other.

It is not passion that spurs them, but the sealing of their vow to share a future together—no matter the consequences. As their movements slow and their tongues retreat, a soft sigh escapes Bella. Edward kisses along her jaw before straightening and tucking her head beneath his chin.

"I hate the thought of giving you up," Edward says, wrapping his arms to hug Bella tightly.

A small giggle escapes as she pulls back to meet his eyes. "You are not giving me up. Never. Consider it more of a loan."

Edward growls playfully. "I do not like to share."

"Please know that the woman you are sharing does not exist," Bella states, brushing her fingers along his scruffy jaw. "I am Bella, Edward's love; not Isabella, future Queen of Olympia. She is merely a ruse."

Edward takes a deep breath and nods. "I know that, and as this is all my fault, I deserve any pain her presence causes me."

Bella shakes her head almost without thought. "You must stop blaming yourself, Edward. The past cannot be corrected."

Edward does not respond, instead, he grasps her hand and secures it to his elbow as he turns to continue leading them back to the tunnel. Once there, he pulls open the door and collects the candle before ushering Bella inside. He makes sure the door is closed, but not sealed tightly, before escorting her through the stone-lined cavern.

When they reach the other side, he pushes the heavy door open, assisting Bella as she steps into the afternoon sunshine. He makes sure to leave the candle and tinderbox, including his small knife, on the top step before pushing the door closed.

"Are you not going to secure the doors?" Bella asks, her curious mind assessing his actions.

Edward shakes his head as his eyes fall to the ground. "I cannot bring myself to seal it completely. It is my wish that, if needed, you will still consider this option." Bella opens her mouth to refute him, but his eyes snap to hers, freezing any words she is considering. "I understand your point completely, Bella, but we do not know what will happen in the next fortnight. I would feel better just knowing the option is here and you have easier access to it."

Bella's shoulder slump in defeat. She has no intention of using this tunnel as an escape without Edward, but if it will give him peace of mind then so be it. "Thank you, Edward. For caring so deeply for me."

A smile lights his face at her acceptance. "That was easier than expected," he remarks, his boyish attitude from earlier making a return appearance.

As he escorts her down the final path, Edward is already scheming. It is his intent to make the tunnels as ready as possible in the coming days.

Just before they reach the garden, Edward pulls them to a halt. "I shall see you tonight," he says before kissing her on the cheek.

When she makes no move, he lifts a playful brow. "Well." With a sweeping gesture, he motions for her to step back into Isabella's shoes.

With her own brow lift, Bella straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin and steps back into the garden where she finds Angela dutifully waiting.

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 **I worked really hard to make sure you had a nice, long chapter today. Hope it soothes some concerns and brings about others ;)**

 **See you next week :)**


	21. Wavering

**Fran beta's, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read :)**

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It is two days later when Isabella sees Lady Alice for the first time since she learned of her compliance. "Good afternoon, Bella," she says as she sweeps into the room, waving her gown with a flourish. "We have a fitting to get underway."

Bella is so shocked by Lady Alice's casual use of her Edward-given name that she cannot even form a reply. She simply stares at the tiny woman with wide, incredulous eyes.

Paying her no mind, Alice lays the exquisite gown upon Bella's bed and turns, noticing for the first time the shocked look upon the face of the princess. She waves her hand. "Oh, please, Bella. Are you truly surprised?" Alice taps her temple as she approaches her. "I know you and Edward have already spoken, and now, it is my hope that we may converse frankly."

By this point, Bella has collected herself. She did expect to have a conversation with Alice, she just did not anticipate it to be so suddenly. "Yes, Lady Alice, I apologize. I did expect we would be speaking. Please, won't you join me for some tea."

"No time for tea," Alice replies already moving behind Bella. "We can chat while you try on this dress. It should be very close to a perfect fit." She reaches up and begins untying Bella's corset. As she does so, she says, "I can see that you are wavering, and sadly, I do not have the answers you seek."

Bella is facing away as Alice diligently works to open the laces of her gown, but it makes the words she hears no less worrisome. "What exactly do you see, Alice?"

Alice tugs the remaining ties free, and the gown loosens. She sighs. "I see many things, Bella. Sometimes, far in the future, I see you and Edward, together, happy, with children even. I see the king with a smile upon his face. But then there are other times where I see a battle."

Bella gasps and spins to face her. "A battle in what way?"

Alice props her chin on her fingers and stares into nothing for a moment before focusing on Bella. "I am not sure. It is not very clear. I see swords and armor and men fighting, but nothing about the scene is familiar to me."

Bella considers this as she finishes removing her gown while Alice lifts her wedding dress and assists in slipping it over her head. Once she has it situated, Alice moves behind her to start fastening the tiny buttons that line her back.

Bella runs her hands down the rich, silken texture of the blue fabric, her fingers gliding over it softly. "Do you think my wavering is the cause of your battle visions?"

"I cannot be sure," Alice replies as she closes the final buttons. "Spin to face me." Bella complies as Alice examines the gown carefully. "You look lovely, princess." She reaches up and grips the seam along each shoulder. "Just a tiny adjustment here, and it will be perfect."

Bella huffs and crosses her arms petulantly. "Does that really matter so much when I will never wear it? And how can you act so indifferent?"

Alice stops fiddling with the dress and looks at Bella, really looks at her. The woman before her is carrying a heavy burden, one even more so than Alice had suspected. Lines crease her forehead, and dark smudges appear below her eyes.

"Isabella," she says softly. "I apologize. I do not mean to seem uncaring, but my visions, they come to me, and I have no control. They are in constant flux, ranging from what gown I will be wearing tomorrow to my future with Jasper. This is the first time someone's life, other than my own, has been shown to me, and I struggled with what to do about it."

She begins pacing the floor as Bella absorbs each word she is speaking. "They started as soon as word of the tournament spread. At first, I had no clue what they meant, but by the time you arrived at the castle, everything had solidified for me. I still had no intention of interfering. How does one go about inserting herself into such a dangerous situation anyway?"

She stops and faces Bella, holding up a questioning hand. When she gets no response, she shrugs and continues her back and forth circuit in the small space. "Watching you two was painful, starting from the very first night. Still, I was conflicted. It was not until I witnessed Edward push you away when you left him on the dance floor that I made a decision to intercede."

She stops again and peers at Bella with furrowed brows. "My visions give me assurance that my intrusion is a good decision, but as hard as I try, the battle images will not develop further so that I may guide you in a way that avoids that scenario."

Bella's burden only lies heavier after hearing all Alice has to say. Frustrated, she starts yanking at the dress, wanting it off and away from her. The soft fabric only feels as if it is slowly constricting her.

Seeing her exasperation, Alice rushes to spin her where she can reach the buttons. "I know you are overwhelmed in a way I cannot comprehend, but please, this is an exquisite piece of work, and I would hate to see it ruined. We do have pretenses to maintain." She adds a soft laugh in an attempt to lighten the tension that has settled around them.

Isabella sighs deeply. "I am sorry, Alice. You are only trying to help, and here I am, placing blame where it does not belong." Once she feels the garment gape, she cannot remove it from her body fast enough. While she dons her previous gown, she continues, "I love and trust Edward to take care of me, but I am not sure he has chosen the best solution to our predicament. He is so afraid of my death that he refuses to consider any option other than fleeing."

Alice nods sadly and motions for Isabella to turn so that she may tighten her laces. "While I am unable to offer any assurances, I can give you one piece of information. My visions of the battle began occurring while Edward was away. This leads me to believe that whatever event triggered them arose during that time, not after you and Edward spoke when he returned."

Once Bella's corset if fully laced, she sits upon the bed with a huff. "So what are you saying, Alice?"

Lady Alice comes and squats before the princess, her dark brown eyes honest and forthright. "I am saying, Isabella, that you face a decision that only you can make. It is your future on the line, and I have seen a beautiful one for you and your knight. It is even possible that the battle scene is a necessity to make that future happen."

"But what if I make the wrong choice?" Bella asks, sounding much like the young woman she really is. "It may cost us our lives."

Alice smiles sadly. "I do not see your death. Granted, my visions may change, but you are a strong, fierce woman, and I know any choice you make, contrary to those you love, would be because you felt you had no other option."

"Oh, Alice," Bella says, grasping her hand tightly. "I think you give me too much credit."

"No," Alice says as she rises from her spot and sits beside Bella to offer a comforting side-armed hug. "Since you arrived at this castle, you have handled all that has been thrown at you with nothing but dignity and grace. I have watched it all play out, and it makes me respect you all the more."

Bella snorts. "I am not sure that qualifies me to make such an important decision, especially without Edward's approval."

"You truly think you would not tell him?" Alice asks, even though she feels sure of the answer already.

"I could not," Bella says simply. "He would not allow me to follow through."

* * *

 **I know, I totally suck, but I have a good excuse! I had a head cold last weekend, but by the time I got on and posted Tuesday, I could breathe, so I thought all was well** **—'** **til about noon, then I realized it was nap time. It was Friday before I felt able to write this chapter, but I'm all good now and back at it. Next chapter is short, too, and I'd love to give it to you later this week, but the whole point of this "once a week" posting is to get ahead, so I'm going to wait until next week and maybe that'll give me the time to clear off one of my two side-projects. I'd like to think that next chapter is, though short, impactful enough that you don't feel cheated.**

 **IDK if you guys remember EZRocksAngel who wrote Creature of Habit? Well, if so, do you also know that she's a published author now? She writes under Angel Lawson and has quite a few books, but what I want to mention today is her new series coming out. I've had the privilege of reading the first 4 books (she's writing the 5** **th** **and final now), and I LOVE THEM! "The Girl Who Shot First: The Death Fields" is book 1, and both it and the pre-order for book 2 (The Girl Who Punched Back: The Death Fields) are available now for .99 each. These books will release once a month until they're all out. It's a post-apocalyptic thriller, and I seriously can't say enough good things about it. You should definitely check it out!**

 **Okay, whew, see you next week :)**

 **And I WILL be replying, I promise!**


	22. In A Land Far Far Away

**The fabulous Fran beta's, and 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read. Thanks all you wonderful ladies :)**

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Widow Forge bustles around, ordering her maidens as they hurry to pack her trunks for her upcoming travels. She wishes to be on her way as soon as possible. The journey will be a laborious one, but even more arduous is speaking with her vile half-brother before she leaves.

A shiver runs through her at the thought.

At the tender age of twelve, her father passed, and along with his crown, her older half-brother received possession of her. Her situation was an unusual one to begin with, as her father kept her close, even though she was his bastard child. He was not an especially kind man, but he made sure her needs were met, and she was raised in the castle.

But upon her father's death, her life changed drastically over a short period of time. With her half-brother now king, she was ignored at first, the bastard child of a dead man. But with her womanly development came attention she did not want along with a marriage to a man forty years her senior shortly after her seventeenth birthday.

Though Waylon was not an evil man, he was also not someone she ever loved. She was expected to cater to him and provide him with an heir. For twelve long years, she stood by his side and settled into a dismal life, but at least she was away from her half-brother, who had paraded her before every available man.

Children were something she was never able to give him, and it was only this past winter when he succumbed to the fever. Instead of enjoying her days as a wealthy widow, her possessions were taken by her brother, and she was recalled to the castle. Once again, he paraded her in front of the eligible men, seeking to advance his political goals by arranging her next marriage.

With a deep sigh, she looks around as her maidens close the trunks and stack them together.

"My Lady," her handmaiden, Heidi, says. "Everything is packed for your trip. Would you like me to have it all taken down to the carriage?"

"Oh, yes, of course, dear," Lady Forge responds, her hand instinctively reaching to fondle her pearls, a gift from Waylon she was allowed to retain. "I will inform the king of my departure and meet you at the carriage."

Lady Forge stands and takes one last sweeping look around her chambers before straightening her shoulders, and with trepidation, leaving the room. She can barely face her king, for she fears her disdain will slip through the false façade she presents. As she walks toward the throne room, she takes deep breaths in order to collect herself.

Before entering, though, loud male voices float out to meet Lady Forge's ears. She fades into the shadows to keep from being spotted and cranes her neck in an attempt to hear what is being said.

The king's voice booms. "It is my assumption that you being here means you have information for me?"

"Your Highness," a low, shaky voice replies. "What I have uncovered is more than mere information. It is pertinent to you and your kingdom."

Lady Forge leans over and takes a quick peek around the stone wall behind which she is hidden. A light-haired man is on his knee before her half-brother, his head bowed in subservience. She pulls back quickly, her brows furrowed, as she tries to work out who this man could be.

The next time the king's voice reaches Lady Forge's ears, it is a lower tone, one that holds curiosity. "Any knowledge you possess to further my goals is an asset, but pertinent to me, you say?"

The man stutters some before clearing his voice and speaking quietly. Lady Forge has to strain her ears in order to hear him at first, but as he goes on, his voice rises. "The wedding is continuing on schedule, but I have discovered deep treachery within the kingdom."

Lady Forge has to fight back her emotions as a sense of dread fills the pit of her stomach. Only one wedding comes to mind when she hears the word, and her fear for her niece skyrockets. She is more ready than ever to finally lay eyes on her again after so long.

As two knights pass the entrance to the throne room, Lady Forge cowers back into her dark corner, but as soon as they disappear, she quickly returns to her eavesdropping.

"Masen!" the king yells before bursting into a loud, raucous laugh. "You mean to tell me that my daughter is going behind Carlisle's back to dally with his knight?" More laughter erupts from the seemingly delighted king. "I could not have planned this better myself!"

A spike of fear travels over Lady Forge's skin as she listens, horrified by what she is learning. Not only is her niece playing a very dangerous game, but now, her malicious father is party to the knowledge. An urgency moves through Lady Forge, but she fights to maintain her composure. If she is to be of any assistance to Isabella at all, she must first get away from this kingdom.

When the king's laughter finally dies, he asks, "Is that all you have for me?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the man answers solemnly. "I can only assume this clears my debt?"

"Ahh, yes, your debt. I hereby declare us to be settled," the king responds, but Lady Forge has heard this tone before. It is cold and filled with pure evil. "Execute him."

Lady Forge shrinks into the crevice as far as she can as two knights drag the screaming man out of the throne room. From her vantage point, all she can see is the blond atop his head and his lax legs as he begs them to spare his life. It takes her several minutes after they have disappeared before she is able to collect herself enough to step into the open. Tilting her chin up, she strides into the throne room as if she has not just overheard the most worrisome encounter.

As she stops before her king, she curtseys. "Charles."

"My dear sister," the king replies. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" His eyes rove over her form, appreciating the feminine curves. Without thought, he licks his lips.

Internally, Lady Forge cringes, but on the outside, she smiles pleasantly. "My trunks are being loaded into the carriage as we speak. I wanted to see you before I departed. Would you like me to send your congratulations or will you be joining me on a later day?"

King Charles props his elbow on the arm of the throne and rubs his chin as he continues to leer at his half-sister, studying both her demeanor as well as the swell of her breasts. Lady Forge holds still under the scrutiny, though on the inside she is crawling out of her skin with anticipation to be away from here.

Finally, he sits up straighter and lets out a dark chuckle. "You must pass along my congratulation to King Carlisle. He has won himself a prize."

"Yes, Your Highness," Lady Forge says as she bows lightly, ready to escape his presence entirely.

As she turns to walk away, his voice causes her feet to pause. "Though I suppose it is possible that you will be seeing me there." Her feet pick up speed as his cold laugh echoes behind her.

Lady Forge settles into her awaiting carriage with only one goal in mind.

She must get to her niece.

* * *

 **Uh oh!**

 **I've been decently productive with my side projects this past week, and hopefully soon, I'll have some news!**

 **See you next week :)**


	23. Suspicious

**A huge thank you to Frannie for returning this so quickly. I didn't get it to her until yesterday afternoon. Thank you to my pre-readers also, Judyblue and 2browneyes, even though I didn't get a chance to send it to them.**

* * *

Edward lies awake in the early morning hours, well before the sun is set to break over the horizon. The warm, naked body pressed against him a reminder of why he is up at this ungodly hour. Only seven more sleeps and Bella will be his completely.

Brushing aside her hair, Edward allows his hand to travel over her neck and down to fondle her bosom. A whimper escapes, causing a smirk to lift at the corner of his lip, until that is, her chest juts outward and her hips arch back, rubbing her bottom against his already growing cock.

Edward freezes, for he knows there is no time to fulfill his carnal desires. He must hurry and leave her chambers before the castle starts humming with servants. He leans down and runs his nose up her neck, bringing his lips to her ear.

"I know you are awake," he whispers, causing a chill to race over her skin.

With the grace of a feline, she stretches her muscles lazily and turns in his arms. "I have been awake since your hand closed around my breast, but it felt so good, how could I not allow you to continue?" Her dark eyes peer up at him, reflecting the glow radiating from the bedside candle.

"You, Bella, are a dangerous woman," Edward says as he leans down to taste her lips.

As their tongues collide, so do their bodies. Twining together, their naked flesh writhes against each other. The constant advance and withdraw a common theme between mouths and limbs that entangle together to become one.

With a growl, Edward retreats, pulling his body completely away from her and flopping onto his back. "We cannot do this," he says as he works to even his breathing. "I have to get out of here before I am discovered."

Bella is disappointed that Edward has to leave her, but she understands. They must be diligent to make sure their affair is not discovered if they wish their plan to succeed. The time for them is so very close, and a single mistake would ruin it all.

She slips the blanket between them to cover her nudity and moves into his side. "Will I see you tonight?" Her hand skims Edward's jaw, prodding his eyes to meet hers.

His brows come together in the center of his forehead, and he grabs her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. "I do not think it is wise to keep pushing our luck. I love you, Bella, and wish to be with you every minute, but right now, we are not safe. Soon, I promise."

Bella sighs. "Why does everything you say make perfect sense?" She rises and kisses his cheek before retreating back to her side. "Go before I tie you to the bed."

Edward's deep chuckle vibrates across the room as he slips from beneath the covers and stands to get dressed. Though Bella is behaving, she cannot stop her eyes from enjoying his form until, piece by piece, he has covered himself completely.

With a gentle smile, Edward lifts the candle and disappears behind the wall. Bella watches his retreat until the glow from the candle fades before turning with a sigh, her heart heavy each time they part.

As Edward navigates the narrow passageway, he yearns for the days when leaving Bella will be behind him. His plans have solidified, and he is more confident than ever that their escape will be successful.

Instead of turning toward the library, he takes the steps that will lead him down to the dungeon. Entering into the dark, damp space fills him with relief. There is no one to see or question why he is inside the castle walls.

After a quick trip to his room, Edward breaks his fast and heads out to the practice field. At first, he is the sole occupant, but as the sun's rays begin to beam overhead, his knights begin to gather and watch as he parries around their mock opponents.

Raucous cheers break out as a wooden arm falls to the ground under his sword, and Edward loses his stride, shaking his head at the men. "Do you find me entertaining?" he asks with a smile, so they know he is teasing.

"More like riveting," Jasper replies, walking toward his leader with his own smile planted on his face. "Someone is in high spirits today."

"Not really," Edward says, studying the blade on his sword. "It is a bright, sunny morning and practice helps work out frustrations."

"Perhaps you could work out your frustrations in another manner," Jasper interjects, lifting a suggestive brow.

Edward can feel his face heat, yet he cannot do anything to stop it. So he slaps Jasper on the back heartily, hoping to cover his guilty feelings. "I am sure a one women man has no useful tips for someone like me."

"On the contrary, Edward. Alice has many fine friends that will be arriving for the wedding any day now," Jasper offers. "I am sure she could set you up with a lovely lady."

Edward studies him seriously for a moment, contemplating his reply. When he finally decides on something appropriate, he internally cringes as he says the words. "As I said, our ideas of a good time do not coincide."

"One day that will no longer be enough," Jasper says as Edward has started to walk away. "When that happens, let me know, and I will help you."

Edward pauses and turns to his lifelong friend, grasping his shoulder in thanks for the sentiment. "I could only hope it would be that simple, my friend." He turns and starts addressing his knights, calling them into position to begin their own training. All the while, Jasper stands studying him, attempting to work out exactly what is going on with his friend and leader.

As the sun beats down, the men work diligently while their leader pushes them harder. Their swords clash and retreat as Edward stalks around each pair, giving commands and altering stances. His patience wears thin as he worries for their safety when he will no longer be around to lead them. This kingdom has been his home since he was a boy, and leaving it will hurt deeply, but staying would kill him.

Not being with _her_ would kill him.

Seeing _her_ marry him, would kill him.

Just as the thought passes through his mind, the man himself calls out to Edward. "There you are!" Carlisle yells, approaching the group.

Edward stiffens for one second before planting a welcoming smile on his face. After all, this is his king, and he loves him as a father. "My Lord," he says with a bow before waving his arm around to his men. "We are just enjoying a rigorous practice session."

"I see," Carlisle says as he looks over the sweaty knights. "You definitely keep them prepared for an attack."

"One can never be too sure," Edward agrees, nodding. "Would you like to observe a few mock battles?"

"Maybe soon," Carlisle replies, moving closer to Edward and lowering his voice. "I was hoping we could speak privately for a moment."

"Oh, of course." Edward sheaths his sword and follows his king from the field, wondering what might be important enough to take him from his duties.

As they move away, the king is silent for several minutes, but Edward waits patiently. He understands completely the need to order your thoughts before speaking. Though, in this instance, he does not understand what could possibly be weighing on the king so heavily.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, Carlisle says, "I fear for the kingdom."

Edward's slows to a stop and faces his king. "Is King Charles preparing for an attack?"

"No, at least, not one of which I am aware," Carlisle replies, but he includes a sarcastic chuckle at the end. "I fear it is the goings on inside of Olympia that may be our downfall. Or the start of it, at least."

Edward tilts his head, trying to follow his king's narrative, but he is completely lost. "My Lord, I am afraid I do not follow."

Carlisle casts his eyes over Edward's shoulder, and when they return, they are pained. "I fear Isabella may have met someone."

Edward almost chokes on his own saliva. "W-what?"

"By this point, I expected that we would have grown close, or perhaps, she could even love me. But as the days pass, she pulls farther and farther away," Carlisle explains as his eyes drift back toward the castle. "We are hardly ever around one another, and when we are, she seems preoccupied. She spends more time in the garden than anywhere, and it leads me to wonder what she finds so intriguing. Is it possible someone could be meeting her there?" He cuts his eyes to Edward, silently hoping he will assure him it is not possible.

Though Edward's mind is filled with many questions, he knows he must handle this carefully. "I cannot pretend to know what is between you and Isabella. But my allegiance is to you, and I will gladly look into the matter if it is your wish."

Carlisle shakes his head sadly. "So be it."

"And if I discover something?" Edward holds his breath as he waits for a reply.

"Arrest him."

* * *

 **I just want to say a huge THANK YOU to this fandom and my readers for all the Wanted love. It sat in "hot and trending" for 4 days, and I can only attribute that to fandom power. Now it has to stand on its own.**

 **Okay, one side project left that I'm already well into, and all my focus will turn back to this fic, and hopefully we'll be back to twice a week soon.**

 **See you next week :)**


	24. A Knight's Disappearance

**Thank you to Fran for her wonderful beta work, and 2browneyes and Judyblue who pre-read for me :)**

* * *

For the past two days, Isabella has eagerly awaited Edward's reappearance. She knows he is acting cautiously, however, these long gaps in between seeing him tend to make her anxious. Each day, as she strolls through the garden, she anticipates his appearance, and yet, so far it has not occurred.

With a heavy sigh, she sits in the sun on a bench and closes her eyes. It is only a handful of days before they make their escape and she needs his reassurance more now than ever. Because no matter how much she wishes for it not to be so, she still has lingering hopes of convincing him to tell King Carlisle.

"Bella," a voice calls, causing her to lift her head and peer at the newcomer.

"Alice!" she exclaims with a large smile, standing to greet her. "Come, sit with me."

Lady Alice returns Isabella's smile, but it falters quickly as she considers the news she has come to share. Though it is not as drastic as it may seem, she fully expects Isabella to react much differently than Edward did when he relayed the information. She is already wavering, and news such as this has the ability to cement a decision. Where Edward felt his choices became more validated, Isabella's may very well swing in the opposite direction.

"Do you have news?" Isabella asks as they sit together. "A new vision?"

"No, not specifically," Alice replies and watches as Bella's shoulders slump. "Oh, do not be worried, My Lady. My visions have been unwavering. The happy future you so desire is still within your grasp." She looks down to her lap. "But I am afraid I have news from Edward. You must first promise me you will not react excessively."

"React excessively?" Bella queries, a sudden knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She grasps Alice's arm tightly. "Has something happened to him!"

Alice looks up, shaking her head. "Nothing has happened, well, not in the way you mean. Edward is completely safe and eager to be with you."

Bella's brows furrow. "What is it then?"

Alice twists so that she facing her directly and takes her hands. "I first want you to promise you will sleep on this information. Do not allow it to sway your decision. I assure you, in the grand scheme, it is of little importance."

Bella takes a deep breath and grasps Alice's hands tightly, bracing herself. "I promise."

Alice tilts her head and studies her for a moment before expelling a sigh. "The king is suspicious." Bella tries to jerk her hands away in an attempt to jump to her feet, but Alice only grips her tighter. "Not of you and Edward," Alice says quickly so that Bella will calm some. "Just listen, _please_. The way you have withdrawn from him is the only thing that drives these suspicions. He has no information to support his conjecture. He has asked Edward to keep an eye on you."

Bella's gasps. "I did this?" she asks absently as she stands to start pacing. "I withdrew from him because I could not stomach pretending something that is not true and hurt my beloved in the process. Will this bring down our plan?" she asks urgently, sitting back before Alice.

"As I said, Bella, I see no changes to what was already there. The visions of your future family have only solidified, but please know that the battle remains. Though it in an abstract form, it has not faded away either."

Bella takes several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. This may not be the news she wanted to hear, but it is better to know what the king is thinking than to be left in the dark.

"And Edward?" she asks, already fearing the answer. "Will I not see him again until we leave?"

Alice shakes her head sadly. "He has decided that the risk is far too great."

Anger surges through Bella.

How dare he decide for her? Does he not realize that she needs his reassurances, that she feels completely in the dark and seeing him gives her confidence. He is making choices that once again affect them both equally.

A throat clears, and her eyes snap to Angela who has just returned from preparing her midday meal. "My Lady." She curtsies. "It seems a carriage is approaching the castle. Expectations are that it is your aunt."

And even though Isabella was very angry before her maiden appeared, she is now overflowing with joy. As she jumps up, a broad smile spreads across her face. She has not seen her aunt since she was a little girl, and having her here, for her final few days in Olympia, is just the thing she needs to keep her chaotic mind occupied.

"Oh, this pleases me greatly," she exclaims. "Alice, would you like to join me in meeting her carriage?"

Alice takes in her joyful countenance and feels grateful for the impeccable timing of Bella's aunt. "No, My Lady," she responds as she stands. "I am sure we will have many opportunities to meet in the coming days."

Bella smiles and lifts her skirts, following Angela through the garden.

Meanwhile …

Edward works tirelessly, both in training his knights for when he will no longer be around to help them, and in preparing as much as possible for the journey he and Bella will make in a few short days. He also fights with himself daily over his urges to be with her.

Yes, he has seen her, as spying on her in the garden has become his only sanctuary. But he forces himself to stay hidden, for if she is with no one, then he has nothing to report. He realizes it is a pathetic attempt on his part to keep from betraying the king to his face. However, it is the very least he can offer the man since he soon intends to steal everything Carlisle holds dear.

The loud thundering of hoofbeats draws his attention to the two horses barreling his way. The urgency with which they move sends a spike of fear shooting through him. He stops and waits as they approach, his muscles already tense.

As they get closer, he recognizes them to be Jasper and Tyler. Coming to a stop, they both dismount quickly, and Jasper nudges Tyler. "Tell Edward," he prods.

"Sir, Michael has disappeared!" Tyler exclaims quickly, his movements jerky and chaotic. "We were camped outside Policia's border, awaiting Lady Forge's carriage. He went to forage for firewood and never returned. I searched the forest but was unable to locate him."

Edward takes in the information that Tyler has shared. Rubbing his chin, he paces on the dirt pathway. A missing knight is an important matter, but at present, Edward does not have the resources to spare for a full blown search, especially so far away.

"Did King Charles accompany her?" Edward's jaw clenches at the very thought of that evil man residing in the same castle as his Bella.

"No, sir. It was only the Lady Forge. Her guards returned to Policia once we took over their stations."

"Did you ask Lady Forge if she knew anything of the knight?" Edward asks, believing it is not likely, but still hopeful for the possibility.

"No, sir," Tyler replies, shaking his head. "I did not consider that he would have entered Policia."

"It may have been inadvertent." Edward shrugs. "Has the carriage arrived as of yet?"

"It will be arriving shortly," Jasper says. "Emmett and I were coming back from a trip to Tacoma when we encountered it. He stayed behind with Paul to make sure the Lady arrived safely while Tyler and I rode ahead."

"Very well, then," Edward says, wiping his brow. "I will speak with the Lady Forge after she has settled into the castle and has had some time to spend with her niece. I am not sure it will provide us with any information, but it could not hurt to ask. Meanwhile, I think the only other option we have is to wait. The wedding is in days, and we need every possible knight at the castle. If he has not appeared afterward, we will send a search party to the border."

Tyler, relieved he is not being blamed for Michael's stupidity, nods and asks, "What would you like me to do now?"

Edward lifts a brow. "Tyler, I would think that by this point you would know what is necessary of you after such a long trip. The first thing is to make sure your horse is taken care of and allowed to rest. Then I expect you to bathe," Edward says, waving his hand over his nose, "and report back, ready to understand what is required of you in the coming days. The safety of Olympia is in our hands during this great celebratory event, and we must be prepared."

"Yes, sir," Tyler responds and begins to lead his horse toward the stable.

Jasper shakes his head as he watches him go. "Edward, I have not missed how completely you have worked to prepare us. Is more danger than we expect headed our way?"

Edward sighs and looks to his long-time friend. "I do not know, Jasper. The future is filled with uncertainty, and all I can ask is that my knights be prepared for whatever happens."

Jasper is unsure what to make of Edward's comment. He is certain, however, that Edward is keeping more to himself than what he is saying aloud.

* * *

 **Fran is off to Disney and won't be back until next Wednesday, I think. That means next week's chapter will be late, probably even Friday. But not to worry! It is my intent to be ready to go back to 2x a week after that chapter.**

 **See you then :)**


	25. Solidify

**Thanks to Fran for all her beta work, and 2browneyes and Judyblue for prereading when they can :)**

* * *

As Isabella trails from the garden behind Angela, nervous anticipation hums over her. She has known for a fortnight that her aunt would come for the wedding, but she has never received a definitive answer for her father. Just the thought of him staying in the same residence as her causes fear, even though he has never physically harmed her.

Though her marriage to King Carlisle is of her father's own doing, she is uncertain how he will react when she does not appear at the altar. These errant thoughts slip through her mind and bring about questions she has not previously asked herself … or Edward.

Did he even consider her father in his plans?

Would her father even care?

It is enough to think that one country will be after you, but what if there are two?

A shiver runs through her, knowing that her father is an evil man, one so unlike King Carlisle that the very idea of him chasing she and Edward scares her uncontrollably.

"My Lady." Angela grasps the princess' arm to gain her attention as they walk across the terrace. "Are you all right?"

Isabella takes a deep breath and nods without much confidence. "Yes, of course."

They are unable to have any further conversation, as when they enter the castle, King Carlisle is awaiting them. He smiles, but the usual longing is absent. "Isabella," he says, reaching for her elbow. "Please, allow me to escort you. Lady Forge's carriage will be in the courtyard momentarily."

Though Isabella has cooled their interactions, the command is clear from her future husband. With important guests arriving, she shall play her role. "Yes, My Lord." She tilts her head and offers the best smile she can muster, which turns genuine as she considers greeting her aunt.

She clears her throat. "May I ask if my father also made the journey?" She keeps her head faced forward, weary that King Carlisle might detect her fear.

His feet falter, and he brings them to a stop, lifting her chin so that she must meet his eyes "Isabella, how long has this been troubling you?"

"For a while," she answers quietly, desperately hoping he cannot see the complete deceit in her eyes.

King Carlisle sighs heavily, rubbing his chin in thought. "Of course," he mumbles, seemingly to himself before grasping his future bride's hand. "Isabella, why did you not tell me you were afraid? He can never control you again, that power belongs to me and me alone." Her eyes widen slightly at his words, but he quickly offers reassurance. "Not that I ever would," he rushes to say. "But I will protect you from that vile man with everything that I have."

The guilt that Isabella constantly fights gnaws to break free. Even though he has suspicions regarding her feelings, all that emanates from Carlisle is kindness. That is the only man he has ever shown her, and the guilt rises to a point where she can no longer face him.

In an effort to push this conversation aside, she quickly averts her eyes and prods him to continue walking. "Thank you, My Lord, I feel much safer now."

King Carlisle chuckles. "Well, you will be pleased to know that your father is not expected."

Isabella, though relieved not to have to face him, still is unsure if that is a good thing or not. If he is not here, then he and his men are elsewhere, and she can only hope it is far away back in Policia.

As they enter the courtyard, Isabella spots the approaching carriage, and her excitement from earlier returns full force. Though she has not seen her aunt since she was a girl, their relationship was close; it was almost as if they were sisters bound by their relationship to one awful man.

Though she is still beside her future husband, Isabella feels the presence of another at her other shoulder. Angela. Her handmaiden is some years older than her aunt, but she was born in the castle and has spent her life serving various ladies until she was assigned to Isabella as a babe.

Isabella gives her a warm, excited smile and grabs her hand as both eagerly watch as the carriage strolls to a stop. All decorum falls away as Lady Forge steps onto the bricks, her eyes scanning for her niece, desperate to see that she is still safe. Isabella, unable to stay still, steps forth as her aunt locks eyes with her and sweeps her into her arms for a gleeful hug.

Holding her tightly, she says, "Isabella, it has been so long." The two women share a long, loving hug before Lady Forge pulls back to look over the young princess. "Let me look at you." She cups her cheek. "So lovely."

Isabella smiles at her aunt with tears gathering in her eyes. "Esme, you are just as I remember you."

Lady Forge allows a laugh to slip past her lips as she shakes her head. "Not quite, but we do not have to discuss that." She grabs Isabella's arm and pulls her close to her side as she turns to focus on the man standing quietly in the background.

"Your Majesty," she says as she curtsies, but her shrewd eyes are trying to assess the danger her niece is in as they skim over the other faces present. She breathes much easier when she realizes the knight is nowhere around, but a large smile breaks free when she sees Angela standing quietly to the side.

She steps over in front of the handmaiden. "Angela, it pleases me so very greatly to see you still serve the princess. Thank you," she says as she feels tears of gratitude fill her eyes.

The three women huddle close and exchange more welcoming sentiments before Esme once again faces the king. "Forgive me, sire. It has been many years since I have had the pleasure of either of their company."

Carlisle smiles pleasantly. "No need for an apology. I am just happy to see such a large smile upon Isabella's face. Shall we?" He waves his hand for the ladies to precede him into the castle. "Angela, will you show them where to take her luggage?"

"Yes, My Lord," Angela replies with a bow.

"Come, ladies, I shall escort you to the afternoon meal."

Though neither Lady Forge nor Isabella wishes to sit and dine with the king, they each feel compelled to remain silent, albeit for differing reasons.

Afternoon fades into evening as they share a meal and polite conversation. Esme fills them in on her marriage, along with her return to the castle after her husband's death. She works hard to make her life seem normal, wishing to hide the true depths of control King Charles has over her life, even now.

For the king's part, he is simply basking in his future bride's happiness. It is the most time he has spent with her in what seems like ages, and their usual tension is nonexistent. He even feels a modicum of shame for his previous suspicion of her. He can now understand how her fear was pulling her away.

Lady Forge uses every single minute she is in the couple's company to gauge their interactions. She must give her niece credit; there are no noticable signs of the betrayal she is committing. But then, Lady Forge wonders; is Isabella even guilty at all? Or was it just a ploy by the blond-haired man, or even Charles himself?

Though Isabella is enjoying the small, impersonal discussion she is having with her Aunt Esme and even Carlisle, she is anxious to be alone and have the freedom to enjoy female conversation. After all, she will only have a scant few days with her aunt, ever again.

"Aunt Esme," she says at the next lull in the exchange. "Would you like me to show you to your chambers? Perhaps have a bath prepared? You must be tired from the journey."

Esme smiles and reaches for Isabella's hand, offering her a gentle squeeze. "It was a rather long journey. Are you sure you do not mind?"

Isabella stands. "No trouble at all." She turns to Carlisle. "If you will excuse us, My Lord."

"Of course," he agrees, standing and offering Esme a hand to assist her from her seat. "I apologize if I have kept you for too long. It was simply wonderful to see Isabella so happy."

Esme smiles at Carlisle and bows before turning to her niece and taking her elbow. "Lead the way, dear," she says, eager to be somewhere more private. Her earlier worries resurfacing in lieu of the king's puzzling comment.

As they ascend the stairs, the two women are lost in their own thoughts, but interestingly enough, they are traveling a similar path. While Isabella considers whether she should share her affair with her aunt, Esme is desperate to warn her niece of what her father has learned.

She is also desperate to know if it is true.

By the time they reach the top of the grand stone stairway, Angela has caught up with them. "Lady Esme, I have already started the preparations for your bath. The king was kind enough to inform me of your wishes."

Esme halts and turns to the handmaiden. "Thank you, Angela, but could you please give Isabella and me time to speak. Privately?"

Angela halts her steps and looks between the two women, her protective instincts kicking in. While she has not been around Esme since she was a teenager, she has always considered her a good person. Yet, when it comes to her princess, she is unwilling to risk any untoward behavior.

"I am sorry, My Lady, but I cannot allow that without knowing your intentions. You are from Policia, and Isabella has finally escaped that wretched place. It is my duty to make sure she remains safe." Angela stands facing her with tense shoulders, ready to defend Isabella at all costs, if necessary.

"Angela," Esme says, stepping forward. "I admire your gumption, but I assure you I am no threat to Isabella."

"It is okay, Angela," Isabella speaks, stepping beside her aunt and laying a soothing hand on her handmaiden's arm. "I also wish to speak with my aunt. Will you oversee the other maidens and make sure we are not interrupted?"

Angela studies her princess with worried eyes, but finally, with a nod, she says, "As you wish, My Lady."

Isabella squeezes her arms gently before releasing her and turning back to Esme. "Shall we. You have been placed in the East Room. The views of the sunrise are absolutely breathtaking."

"That sounds lovely, dear," Esme replies as they travel down the corridor and to a large wooden door. "I am just happy to be waking up here in Olympia. It would have devastated me should I have missed your wedding."

Esme keeps her eyes pinned to Isabella as she says this, gauging her reaction, and even though it is minuscule, she still notices. Though her niece retains her smile, it is not hard to miss how it turns from genuine to strained. Add to that the slight wince, and every fear Esme has for her niece amplifies.

She presses her hand into her arm. "We should talk now." With a new urgency to her movements, she pushes through the door and pulls Isabella in behind her, leading them both to a pair of chairs situated beside a small table. "Please, sit. There is no time for delicacy."

Isabella's brows furrow as she hurries to comply, given the urgency in Esme's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, dear," Esme says, brushing a gentle finger down her niece's cheek. "I truly, truly hope not, but my observations have given me cause to worry."

"I do not understand," Isabella replies, leaning into the almost motherly touch of her aunt. "You have only just arrived. Is something not to your satisfaction."

Esme sits back and grabs both of Isabella's hands in an almost desperate grip. Placing them on the table between them she pins her with anxious eyes. "Before I left for my journey here, I was privy to some, if true, dangerous information. Well, that's not completely true, I eavesdropped on your father and overheard something … Oh, Isabella, for your sake I hope it is not so."

"Aunt Esme, please," Isabella says, her heart now thundering. "What did you overhear?"

"Oh, dear child." Esme sighs, as she can see the guilt burning in her niece's eyes. "It is true." She stands and starts pacing the floor, her mind in a tizzy trying to come up with some kind of reasoning for such an outright betrayal.

Isabella jumps up, frantic now, and grabs Esme's shoulders. "What? What is true? You must tell me so I can prepare myself!" Her thoughts are chaotic as she shakes her aunt rather roughly.

"Calm down, Bella," Esme soothes, removing the princess' hands. "Sit. Let us discuss this state of affairs like rational women and decide what course of actions we must take. Because, I assure you, dear, I am on your side no matter what."

Both women attempt to collect themselves as they retake their seats. Isabella's thoughts are scattered as there are too many scenarios for her to contemplate; therefore, she decides to allow her aunt to explain herself before losing all reason. As for Esme, she has now accepted the information as factual and has mentally moved on as to how she might save her niece from the horrible fate she has brought upon herself.

Clearing her throat, Esme says simply, "I know you are having an affair with the knight, but please understand that I am not your problem. It is your father, for he, too, possesses this information."

Isabella gasps, her heart dropping to her stomach. Of all the information Esme could have shared, this is by far the worst. Her father is an evil man, and information such as this will crumble Olympia. He will make sure of it.

Tears gather in her eyes and begin to fall down her cheeks. "What is his plan?" she asks, not even able to muster enough fight to care. Whatever his plan, he intends to destroy them all.

"I am not certain, but it cannot be good," Esme replies, standing and moving over beside her niece. She places her arm across her shoulder and holds her tight against her. "At least we have the advantage. You have time to correct this. King Carlisle has proven to be a fair and even-tempered man. You can allow your father to hold your fate, or you can entrust it with the king."

Isabella's tears turn to sobs as the thought of Edward, her true love, enter her mind. She needs him at this moment more than ever before, yet she knows he will not be there. Their life has been altered by outside forces, and she does not even have the luxury of contacting him. She cries harder.

Esme holds her niece, wondering what it must feel like to love someone so much that she would risk her life to have him. Her closest reference to anything of the sort was her mother. Being a king's mistress can be advantageous, but it can also be deadly, and her mother paid with her life. All for the love of a man who would never be hers.

She sighs heavily as Isabella's tears fade. "Do not fret, dear. I am here, and I will stand by your side. Your battle is my battle."

It is at this moment when Isabella realizes that no one can fix this for her. There is only one option, at least, only one that may guarantee her lover's life, and she will do anything to save him.

Standing abruptly, she wipes her face and gathers herself. "Thank you, Aunt Esme, for sharing what you know. I truly do appreciate your support, but this is my mess, and I will tend to it. Please, relax into a warm bath, and we will discuss this further tomorrow."

Esme's brows furrow. "Are you sure, Isabella?"

The princess offers her a sad smile. "There is nothing we can do today. Rest, because I have a feeling tomorrow will not be quite what you had hoped when you made plans to travel here."

Esme pulls Isabella closer and hugs her tightly before releasing her. She watches with a frown as her niece turns and exits her chambers with a blank expression.

Isabella feels dead inside as she makes her way back to her chambers. She has been forced into a corner which has but one exit. Her heart skips at the thought, but it is not fear for herself but fear for the man she loves.

As she turns onto the main corridor, her eyes scan, praying for a glimpse of bronze hair, but it is not what she finds. She finds blond, so she takes a deep breath and calls his name.

"My Lord." She pauses when he turns to her and offers a small smile.

"Isabella," King Carlisle says with his own smile, until he gets closer and can see how red her eyes are. "Are you all right?" He touches her arm.

She shakes her head and waves him off. "Of course. It has been a long time since I have been able to spend time with my aunt."

"Ahh, I see." The thought of the two women catching up after so long makes him happy. "Did you need something, or were you just eager to see my handsome face again?"

"Actually, yes … to both." Blood rushes to her cheeks. She has never tried to flirt before and is not sure if now is the right time, but it cannot hurt. "I was hoping you would join me in my chambers to break our fast."

Carlisle's brows climb high onto his forehead, but at the same time, his heart starts pumping double time. "Yes," he answers, too eager for the opportunity to bother asking about her change of heart.

"Thank you, My Lord." She curtsies and turns to retire to her chambers for the night.

King Carlisle watches her go, a permanent smile spread across his lips. He wonders if the fair Lady Forge is somehow responsible for this unexpected change in his bride-to-be.

Isabella closes the door behind her and collapses against it. She made a promise earlier today, and she intends to keep it. But as soon as the sun has risen, she will do what she must to protect the most important person in her existence.

 _Somewhere else in the castle …_

Behind her lids, a series of images flash by quickly; the decision has been made, and though it pains her to watch, she knows she has only a specific part to play.

Not only does their fate solidify before her, but so too, does the battle.

* * *

 **Long one! Okay, we're at the nitty gritty now, and the next posts will depend on chapter length. If it's long, one a week, short, you'll get two. Not sure how much more is left, chapter-wise, but the story is ramping up and then winding down.**

 **All Mobward entries are in and voting opens tomorrow; read, review and vote! Just search "We Love Mobward fanfiction" for the link.**

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 **See you next week :)**


	26. The Ugly Truth

**Thanks to Fran for her wonderful beta work, and Judyblue and 2browneyes for their awesome pre-reader comments!**

* * *

Long before the sun creeps over the horizon, painting the sky with orange and pink, Isabella lies awake. Even with all she has been through lately, last night was the least restful she can remember, and now she can only hope she is making the right decision. She desperately wishes Edward had broken his own rules and came to her last night.

"My Lady," Angela says, causing her to gasp and grab her chest.

"Angela, you scared me." She stands swiftly. "Sorry, I am on edge this morning."

"Are you ready to dress?" Angela moves to the wardrobe and lifts out a deep blue gown.

Isabella clears her throat. "Yes, that will be fine."

Nerves flutter through Isabella almost uncontrollably as the minutes tick by, each second bringing her closer to the inevitable. Once she has donned her gown, the moment of truth slaps her in the face.

"Would you like to break your fast now?" Angela asks, completely unaware of Isabella's intent.

The princess gathers her maiden's hands and holds them to her. "I will be dining with the king this morning, here, in the sitting room. Could you make sure our breakfast arrives in a timely fashion? You can coordinate with him on his time of arrival."

"My Lady." Angela's brow scrunches together in the center as she looks over her princess. "Why would the king dine here, in your chambers?"

"He is to be my husband in just a few days. It is time to move our relationship forth," Isabella replies, dropping her hands and turning so that she no longer has to look Angela in the eyes. "In fact"—she grabs a small note from her bedside table—"I have a very important task for you after you leave this room." She turns and holds out the folded paper. "I need you to track Edward down, no matter what, and deliver this letter. It is urgent that he receives it."

"My Lady," Angela says. "No. Whatever you are doing, stop."

Isabella sighs heavily. "I cannot. This is the only way. Now, please, go!"

She hates being demanding when it comes to Angela, but this is her decision and the only person who could have had any impact upon it chose to keep her at arm's length. So now, this is her choice; one she will bear with dignity.

After Angela has gone, all that is left to do is pace. Back and forth she traverses across the cold stone floor. Inside, her heart is beating at a rapid pace, yet her whole body is chilled to the bone. The implications of this meal will span the rest of her life.

A light knock sounds before Angela peeks around the door. When she sees that her princess is waiting, she opens it wider, revealing King Carlisle with a large smile upon his face.

Isabella approaches. "My Lord." She curtsies and motions to the small table situated in the center of the sitting room. "Good morning. Please, have a seat."

Instead of moving directly to the seat, he first steps toward Isabella with a gentle expression, one that is akin to love. "Good morning, Princess. Allow me to assist you." He pulls out her chair and takes her hand, guiding her into the seat. "There we are."

As the couple is preoccupied with taking their seats, Angela has been loading the table with fresh fruits, eggs and bread. She is making sure to take her time, actually fearful of when she has to leave her princess alone with the king. Something is wrong, and she fears life will be forever altered by this seemingly simple breakfast.

Once everything has been set, she still lingers, until Isabella notices and lifts a brow. "That will be all, Angela." The handmaiden curtsies and turns to leave. "Please, make sure we are not disturbed," she adds in a firm voice.

"Yes, My Lady," Angela murmurs, hurrying out the door.

King Carlisle takes in his future queen's demeanor and comes to the realization that this meal is not going to go as he had hoped. The slight strain around her eyes is evident, along with the stiffness of her shoulders.

He leans forward and speaks softly, afraid of startling her. "Isabella, is everything all right?"

He watches as her eyes momentarily close, only to reopen much colder than they were before. "No, My Lord, everything is not all right. This is the reason I invited you here. We must talk."

Though she is fighting to stay strong, the urge to fall at King Carlisle's feet and plead for Edward's life is strong, almost overwhelming. Tears gather at the thought of the knight who rightfully won her.

"Isabella," Carlisle says softly, afraid of unsettling her further. She looks ready to bolt from the room as it is. "You know that you can talk to me. Whatever has you out of sorts cannot be that bad. I am here for you. I will be your husband in just days."

His words harden Isabella's resolve. Yes, he will be her husband, if she is allowed her life, that is. She meets his eyes. "Let us put that thought aside, for now, Carlisle. After you hear me out, I cannot promise you will still wish it to be so."

His eyes narrow and his head cocks as he scrutinizes her, a sliver of foreboding racing down his spine. "Isabella, your words make me wary, and I fear of losing my patience. It is clear this is no simple meal. Speak your mind so that we may both be clear of what you are implying." He leans back and crosses his arms, a much sterner expression lining his face.

This only strengthens Isabella. The last thing she needs is a soft king when facing her evil father, yet he shall have to be just soft enough to let Edward escape with his life. Even though it was King Charles learning of their affair, which backed her into this corner, she is determined to bargain for Edward's life.

With her shoulders held high she matches his chilled expression. "King Carlisle, I was not completely honest with you. Though I spoke once of a lost love, I failed you desperately by not revealing who that person was."

"I do not consider that an important fact, Isabella." Carlisle's tone is sharper than he intends, so he softens as he continues, "It is the past, and I do not wish you to confess your wrongdoings—"

"My father has learned of my affair," she blurts, stopping him from saying anything further. "And it endangers us all."

The king shrugs. "It is of no consequence. You belong to me now. He has no control over your life."

"Oh, Carlisle, I wish it were so simple," Isabella says quietly before taking a deep breath and spilling the true depth of her betrayal. "It is of consequence because that man was Edward, and I have continued our affair since I have been at the castle."

The whole room falls into an eerie silence as Isabella holds her breath and awaits the king's reaction. The muscle of his jaw twitches as his hard eyes bore a hole through her form.

"Explain," he demands through clenched teeth.

"I have no explanation, My Lord," Isabella says. "I take full responsibility for my actions, but I assure you, it is over. I will do whatev—"

Carlisle's fist slams into the table, causing her words to freeze on her lips. He jumps from his chair and paces the floor, his mind churning. Not over Isabella's betrayal but Edward's.

His pseudo-son has been carrying on an affair with his future queen.

* * *

 **Sorry I didn't reply to all reviews last chapter, but I'm doing my best to get this one finished. I have 2 for you this week!**

 **Thanks to everyone who nominated Wanted, but it wasn't selected. I'll do my best to get it on Amazon soon.**

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 **See you Friday :)**


	27. The Woman

**Fran has worked her beta magic all over this chapter, and 2browneyes and Judyblue gave me their thoughts!**

* * *

Edward is up with the sun and expects the same from his knights. His days of training are dwindling, and he hopes to prepare them as much as possible. After witnessing a particularly rough match between Emmett and Tyler, he dismisses them for the morning meal with instructions for their guard locations afterward.

He has been avoiding the castle during the morning meal, but today he is hoping to catch the Lady Forge. He sneaks into the kitchen and eats some bread before hearing Kate's voice. Hoping to avoid her, he grabs an apple and takes the server's passage that will lead him to the Great Hall.

Trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, he remains close to the walls, careful to assess the room before making an entrance. When he spots neither Carlisle nor Isabella, he steps further into the room, surveying the women present. Only one is unrecognizable; therefore, he assumes, this must be Lady Forge. He strides across the room and takes the seat to her right.

The sound of the chair moving causes Esme's eyes to shift, expecting Isabella to have joined her. But instead, she is greeted by a handsome young man.

"Good Morning, Lady Forge, I presume?" The man's face is serious, and she has to wonder his intent.

She nods once. "Yes, that would be me. And you are?"

"I am Edward Masen, Knight of Olympia." Her smile falls, but he overlooks it and continues with his reason for approaching her. "I was hoping I could speak with you about your journey. We had a knight go missing while my men awaited your carriage."

Esme is scrutinizing the man before her so harshly that she almost misses the words he is speaking. But all too soon, his sentiment penetrates her mind, and she realizes the implications of his question.

She stands swiftly. "Not here. Follow me!"

Edward is unsure exactly what is going on, but he dutifully follows Lady Forge from the Great Hall and into the first semi-private alcove she can find. She spins to him swiftly, and her eyes scan before leaning closer to speak lowly with him.

"There was a strange man in Policia," she says, her hands wringing together. "He spoke with the king, and I overheard." She leans back a bit and lifts a sharp brow. "Have you spoken with Isabella since my arrival?"

Edward's works hard to maintain his indifference. "I usually do not have occasion to converse with the future queen."

Esme huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Do not play me for a fool, Edward Masen. Exactly what do you think that traitor to Olympia was telling the king?"

A chill races over Edward's skin as fear grips him tightly. "No!"

"Yes," Esme snaps, unable to keep the anger at bay. "How could you put her in such a position?" She puffs up to her full, inadequate height, venom lacing her tone.

"Because I love her and cannot watch her marry another," Edward snaps, the fear inside him swiftly changing into anger. "Did you tell her about this?" He is towering over her now, his lean form tense and braced for battle.

Esme takes a step back, unaccustomed to so much passion. Yet, it pleases her to see it. She is witnessing a man who is in love with Isabella and is ready to tear down whatever would hurt her.

Esme meets his dark, angry eyes. "She does. I told her as soon as I could get her alone."

Edward draws back as if she has slapped him, the stone-cold reality hitting him hard. King Charles knows of their affair, and Isabella is aware of it. Suddenly, he is desperate to see her and he runs off, leaving a stunned Esme in his wake.

Just as he reaches the bottom of the stairway, a desperate voice calls out to him. He actually feels relief when he sees who it is. "Angela," he says, rushing to meet her. "Where's Bella?" He grabs her arms and shakes her in urgency.

"She is dining with the king in her chambers," Angela says, her eyes cast to the floor. But then she holds up the folded sheet of parchment. "She asked that I deliver this to you." Angela passes the note over to the stunned knight and disappears before he even has time to process what this could possibly mean for him.

 _Dear Edward,_

 _My father knows of our affair, and his plan can only mean war. The best chance Olympia has is advanced knowledge, and I am in possession of that. For our country and your life, I am willing to sacrifice. As you read this, I am informing King Carlisle of our treachery._

 _My love for you is greater than any that has ever existed, and your life means more to me than my own. Leave this place and me behind. I will imagine you safe and happy for all time. Your life makes my sacrifice worth it. Run, Edward, please._

 _Always yours in my heart,_

 _Bella_

Edward's eyes scan the words three times before he is able to comprehend them. Yet, when it dawns, his feet begin moving of their own accord. His mind stumbles through many possible scenarios as he hurries up the steps, but the focus is on his fear for Bella. She has gone against everything he had planned for them, and now, she has put her life at risk.

He cannot walk away, and he cannot imagine how she ever thought he would. As he gets to the top of the stairway, his mind wavers. Right or left. Should he charge in unprepared or take it slow and reveal himself at the appropriate time?

He turns left and stalks to the library, hurriedly moving to the far corner and entering the passageway, barely taking the time to pull the shelf closed behind him. His feet cover the narrow stone blocks swiftly and decisively as he navigates the turns that will lead him behind her wall.

When he comes upon the rear of the large painting that covers the entrance to Bella's chambers, he pauses and listens. The soft feminine tones of Bella's voice reach his ears, yet he cannot understand what she is saying. He relaxes minutely, as she is safe … at least, for the moment.

However, it is the thundering reply from his king that has him sliding the wood aside, and quietly stepping into her bedchambers. Carlisle's voice carries from the sitting room, causing every muscle in Edward's body to tense.

"How dare he!" King Carlisle roars, his fist slamming into his hand with a resounding smack. "I cannot … Did he force you?" He pauses and levels Isabella with a glare not necessarily meant for her.

He is not quite sure right this second how he feels when it comes to Isabella. He is so blinded by Edward's actions that he can barely focus on what comes next. He wishes to wrap his bare hands around Edward's throat and squeeze until all life has drained from his eyes.

"No!" Isabella yells, standing from her seat and attempting to approach the enraged king. "I … I love him!" she says, desperate for Carlisle to hear and understand.

It does bring about a pause, but not in the way she had hoped. His piercing eyes jump to her as he closes the distance between them. "You love him?" he snarls before grasping her head and delivering a punishing kiss.

Isabella is stunned by his actions, and it takes her a second to fight back, but fight she does. She struggles against his hold, determined to get through to him, but unexpectedly, he is snatched away, and soft, gentle hands are on her.

"Are you all right?" Edward asks as his palms cup her cheeks tenderly. "Please, say something, Bella."

It takes Isabella a moment, but when she realizes why King Carlisle is no longer kissing her, icy shards of fear stab her chest. Edward is here, and he has forcefully removed the king from her body.

Her eyes widen, and she moves around Edward, rushing to Carlisle who is just rousing. "My Lord," she mumbles, as she crouches down beside the stunned king. "I … I apologize."

King Carlisle shakes his head to clear it, and his eyes narrow on his lead knight. He brushes Isabella aside and stands swiftly, but Edward ignores him in favor of assisting Bella from the floor where Carlisle had discarded her.

Tucking her safely behind him, he stands to face his king. "Carlisle."

"Edward," the king returns, his blood boiling underneath his skin. "Just who I was hoping to see."

"I understand," Edward replies evenly. "This is between you and me. Leave Bella out of it."

Isabella struggles to move beside Edward, but his arm is firmly blocking her from stepping forward. "Edward, stop," she says. "I am the one who was committed to another and ignored it."

"Bella," Edward breathes, his voice laced with pain as he cuts his eyes to her. "Stop. I cannot allow you to take blame for my inactions." He brushes her cheek reverently and turns back to Carlisle. "Sire, this fiasco is my own doi—"

"Fiasco," Carlisle says with a sarcastic laugh. "It is quite funny how you term utter betrayal in such a benign way."

"If you would hear me out," Edward barks, his tone sharp, "then I believe you would feel some compassion for our situation."

Carlisle throws his head back and barks out an incredulous laugh. "Hear you out? You wish to tell me details of how you seduced my fiancé and carried on behind my back."

"It was not seduction," Isabella says loudly, poking her head from behind Edward's bulk. "I told you of my lost love once. I simply did not tell you it was Edward."

King Carlisle cocks his head at his future bride, his eyes narrowed. "That was before we arrived at the castle."

"It was," Isabella confirms.

"Carlisle," Edward says, stepping forward. "Bella is the woman who saved my life."

The king's eyes switch from his future bride to his knight as his mind spins to put together the information he is hearing. Conversation from that day so long ago plays through his mind.

" _A woman I presume?" Carlisle had suggested after hearing of someone nurturing him back to health._

" _Not merely a woman, but the woman. An angel sent from God."_

" _She did not return with you, then?" Carlisle had asked._

" _We cannot be. We are from two entirely different worlds."_

" _But you loved her?"_

His recollection of Edward's pained expression and accompanying nod allows all the anger to fade from his system, only to leave a great sadness behind. Because, though he realizes the truth of their complicated situation, he must consider his country first, and his people will demand retribution.

For they all know King Charles will not allow this to be kept secret. He is coming for them, and this will be his most powerful weapon.

* * *

 **I've written 2 chapters for next week, but I expect to have something to post pretty much every day, so that may push next week's second chapter back to the following week. The good news is that the resolution of this specific situation is in the next chapter, so you won't be hanging. I'm working diligently to wrap this one up, and will do my best on replies, but please know that I love every single comment if I don't get back to you.**


	28. The Resolution

**Thanks to Fran for her always wonderful beta job, and to Judyblue and 2browneyes for pre-reading!**

* * *

The king sighs heavily and moves to grasp his knight's upper arms. "Why did you not tell me, son?" He gives him a shake. "You won her hand and passed her along to marry another instead. Why! Why would you do this?"

"I am a knight of my word, sire. It was public knowledge that my entering into the tournament was to win _you_ a bride," Edward replies, the words sounding meaningless as he says them to his king.

Carlisle shakes his head sadly. "Edward, the people would have understood if you had explained your circumstance. Now, you have committed treason by allowing them to embrace a future queen that you coveted for yourself!" He shakes him once again, a little rougher, and turns to pace the floor. "A simple explanation will not suffice. They will demand retribution, especially when they learn of King Charles' knowledge. The fear of his advance will drive their determination to see you beheaded."

"Do you not think I realize this!" Edward snaps, his hand making a circuit through his already riotous hair. He spins to Bella, grasping her cheek tenderly. "I warned you of the consequences. Why, Bella? Why would you do this?"

She nuzzles her cheek into his large palm. "Can you not see, Edward? I had no choice. I could never leave the people of Olympia behind to suffer for our mistakes."

"Leave them behind?" King Carlisle questions, causing Edward to move beside Bella and place a protective arm around her side.

"Yes, My Lord," Edward says solemnly. "We were going to run. Before the wedding."

King Carlisle's eyes widen and then narrow as he stalks over to the couple. "You were going to take your future queen and run," he states, his voice devoid of emotion. "You were willing to risk Isabella's life after _you_ made the ultimate mistake?" He pulls his hands behind his back to keep from pummeling the misguided knight and paces the floor. "I cannot even begin to comprehend your thought process. You present her to me, as my future bride, only to return to the castle and have an affair under my nose, committing a treachery that calls for your head. Both of you!" He roars the last words, stiffening his spine and spinning to stand tall before the couple.

"You will not touch her," Edward says, enunciating each word carefully as he stands nose to nose with his king. "Do with me what you will, but Bella's fate is not up for negotiation."

"Bella." King Carlisle chuckles and shakes his head.

He does admire his knight's courage, but he has practically backed them all into a corner with his actions. Seeing Edward in love has always been one of his grandest wishes, yet it has been marred with a dangerous secret. One that King Charles, himself, also has in his possession.

"Edward," he says with a deep sigh. "I would never harm Isabella, and you know I love you as a son, even after this betrayal. However, I cannot simply allow this to pass. Your actions require repercussions."

"I understand, My Lord," Edward replies, grabbing Bella's hand tightly in his own. Together, they brace themselves for their moment of reckoning.

"Though I wanted to love Isabella, her distance made it quite clear that she was not ready for my affection. Now that I understand, everything I had hoped to feel has dwindled to nothing." Carlisle looks between the two, his heart heavy under the burden of his decision. "I see only one possible solution at this point. It pains me greatly to deliver such a blow, but I see no other option. Edward, I banish you from Olympia, and my marriage to Isabella will move forth."

"No!" Isabella yells, moving away from Edward and to Carlisle. She grabs onto his tunic. "Please, My Lord, no. I will gladly marry you, but do not make Edward leave on my account."

Edward steps forth and pulls Bella back into his embrace, cooing softly in her ear. "We could not ask for better, Bella. Our heads will remain intact. I could never stay and watch you marry another, and this was what you hoped for when you came to Carlisle. Is it not?"

Though she wishes to rage and scream, all Bella can do is agree, for she knows he is right. She made the only decision she could live with. The people of Olympia now have a chance when it comes to whatever her father plans for them. She turns into Edward's embrace and allows her tears to fall.

"I will go and allow you your goodbyes," Carlisle says softly as he turns to exit the room.

"You wish me to leave now, then?" Edward asks, pulling a sobbing Bella tighter to him.

King Carlisle pauses and sighs, turning back to his knight. "You have left me no choice in the matter. I want you away from the castle, preferably out of Olympia, before the announcement is made. You have until the morning of the wedding. I will make it seem as innocent as possible and inform them that it was Isabella who secretly nursed you back to health. That alone should curb any unrest at my decision to banish you instead of demanding your head."

"Can you be with Bella, give her a good life, and not allow this to color your marriage?" Edward asks.

Carlisle shakes his head sadly. "Son, I will not truly have a wife. I know this now. But she will be the Queen of Olympia and will be treated as such."

"Thank you, Carlisle. I am truly sorry for the betrayal. It was never my intent to hurt you," Edward says, leveling him with a steady gaze. "When I gave her to you, I thought I could follow through."

King Carlisle gives Edward a faint smile. "I know that, son. You are an honorable man who did not realize the lengths in which love can push a person." He takes a deep breath and walks the few steps to the door before glancing back. "Say your goodbyes and be on your way."

Edward gives him a firm nod and allows his eyes to fall closed as his arms pull Bella's body even closer. For uncounted moments, the lovers stay in a tight embrace, memorizing the feel of the other in their arms.

But, as always, it must end, and Edward holds Bella at arm's length, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears. "It is going to kill me to walk away, but I do so with the knowledge that you are safe and protected."

"How can you not be angry at me!" Bella yells suddenly, moving away from him and circling the floor. "I just ripped us in half and"—her face crumples—"and you … you are acting like I did the right thing."

Edward swiftly takes two steps forward and stops her frantic movements by gripping her cheeks between his large palms. "As much as it pains me to say it, Bella, you did do the right thing. If I had listened to you long ago, and trusted Carlisle, we might have avoided this, but I did not, and I will carry that burden."

"No, Edward," she says sadly, tears trailing down her cheeks and onto his hands. "We all carry that burden. You and I will be apart forever, and Carlisle will never be free to love and be loved in return."

Edward leans down and presses his lips to hers in a fierce, possessive kiss before pulling back and uttering words he had never imagined possible. "I know you will need time, but please, Bella, give Carlisle a chance."

Before Bella can even comprehend his suggestion, he kisses her once more, so firmly it makes her dizzy, and departs out the door in rapid fashion. She is left drunk on his presence, until the moment of realization settles. Broken, she drops to the closest chair and sobs for a love she will never again have.

Edward exits her door and forces his feet to keep moving, each step re-erecting the wall around his heart. After grabbing his already packed satchel, he hurries out of the castle and toward the stables where Guardian awaits.

What he does not expect, though, is his next in command to be awaiting his arrival. Jasper is leaned casually inside the doorway, Guardian nearby and ready. When he notices Edward, he starts leading the horse toward him.

"I was expecting you," he says, handing over the reins to his longtime friend. "Alice sent me."

Edward takes in his words and easily shrugs them off. Telling Jasper at this point is obviously of no consequence. "Does she have any instructions for me?"

Jasper chuckles and shakes his head. "I almost thought she was daft, but I can tell clearly, you would not agree."

"Not in the least." Edward starts attaching his belongings to Guardian. "Well?" he asks, giving Jasper a side glance.

"She said to head east."

"That is all?"

Jasper nods. "Why did you not tell us, Edward? When you realized who she was. You know Carlisle would have understood."

"I thought I could stay away. That I could honor my word." Edward shrugs. "But I could not."

Jasper rubs his face roughly, attempting to hide the anger that is eating him. "You know King Charles is coming for Olympia. We need you!"

Edward scoffs. "I am an embarrassment to the people of Olympia. I coveted their future queen. They will want my head."

"Not in favor of dying at King Charles' hand!" Jasper yells, his anger spilling over.

"I have prepared you," Edward says as he slips his foot into the stirrup and lifts himself onto Guardian. "Please, understand, Jasper. I have been deceitful and looked after my own interests over Olympia's. I am no longer worthy of a place here. You can do this! Lead my men and face King Charles by directing all your anger toward him."

Edward nudges his horse into a trot and heads toward the castle gates.

Jasper remains behind and watches him leave, silently fuming, but not because of Edward's love for Isabella. He is enraged that the burden to keep the people of Olympia safe has been placed squarely upon his shoulders.

Hearing Edward's trust in Alice does offer him some mild sense of relief, though. If her assurances are to be trusted, the battle will be hard fought but Olympia will not fall. Yet he cannot help but wonder what sacrifices will be made in the process.

* * *

 **Operation Nail the Swan will start posting tomorrow through Friday.**

 **Thank you for reading :)**


	29. The Perfect Solution

**Fran is my fab beta, who works quickly, and Judyblue and 2browneyes are kind enough to pre-read! Thanks to you all!**

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Isabella spends the rest of her day in bed, refusing every meal Angela tries to insist upon, and all requests for entrance from Esme. Though this is the outcome she prayed for, she never imagined it to be so painful. As he walked away, her very soul detached and followed him from the room, leaving her cold and desolate.

She has fitful bouts of sleep in between jaunts of sobs, but then there are also her lucid periods. In these, she attempts to acclimate her mind to her life as it has been decided, and she even feels the slightest bit of gratitude for her luck. She was fortunate enough to experience a once in a lifetime love—which is more than most people get—and even beyond that, she will still spend her remaining life with a generous and honorable man.

Once the sun has risen on day two, Angela enters with a fresh attitude. She has given her princess room to wallow, but that period is over. She will be queen in just two days' time, and it is best she started acting the part.

The handmaiden deposits a tray filled with fresh fruit on the side table and stalks to the window, pulling the thick draperies back so that the rays cast upon the bed. "Good morning, My Lady," she says, extra cheerfully. "Time to once again join the living." She props her hand on her hip and surveys Isabella as her puffy eyes peek from beneath the coverlet.

Once Angela sees that her princess is at least awake, she strides back to the door and opens it with a flourish, allowing several maidens to scurry in and begin filling the wooden tub. Slowly, more of Isabella's head peeks out to watch the procession file in and out of her room. Once Angela has shut the door firmly behind them, she turns and cocks a brow to her princess.

Isabella sits up with a sigh and pushes the covers down to her legs. Her long tendrils of hair are stuck in the dry tear tracks on her cheeks, and she must work to get them free.

"Is he gone?" she asks, her voice scratchy from all the crying.

"The rumor around the castle is that Edward has gone on a scouting mission to make certain the castle is safe for the wedding."

Though Isabella knew he was gone, it is still slightly disappointing to hear. She stretches her muscles and starts to rise from the bed. "I take it I will be having a bath this morning?"

"Yes, My Lady," Angela replies as she goes through the wardrobe. "A fresh start."

Isabella disrobes with Angela's assistance and settles into the warm, scented water. Her muscles immediately relax as her handmaiden goes about seeing to it that she is thoroughly bathed. Once her hair and skin have been cleansed, Angela urges to her stand and wraps her in a bath towel.

With swift efficiency, Angela has Isabella dressed and her hair in a long braid within a few minutes. She guides her to the sitting room and delivers the plate of fruit, picking up a piece and putting it in Isabella's hand. "Eat," she says simply as she walks to the door and once again swings it open.

Lady Forge strides in, and with no preamble, takes a seat with Isabella. "Good morning, my dear. I do hope you are better today."

Angela quietly slips out of the room.

Isabella takes a deep breath and begins acting like a future queen. "Much better, Aunt Esme, thank you for caring."

"Isabella," Esme says in a very serious tone. "Of course I care. I cared yesterday, too, but was refused entrance."

Isabella's eyes well with tears. "I apologize, but I needed time to absorb the gravity of my actions."

Esme scoots her chair closer to her niece and pushes her arm around her, prodding Isabella's head to rest upon her shoulder. "What would you say if I told you I could fix it all for you?"

Tears leak from Isabella's eyes and wet Esme's shoulder. "You cannot, and that is my fault. I take full responsibility for my actions and am prepared to live out the consequences."

"Oh, Isabella." Esme reaches up and brushes her fingers along her niece's brow. "I was very upset yesterday when I was refused admittance. At first, I just thought you needed a little more time, but by nightfall, I was going out of my mind with worry." She pauses and shrugs her shoulders. "So, I did the only thing I felt I could do. I went in search of King Carlisle."

Isabella gasps and attempts to lift her head, but Esme holds it in place with careful soothing strokes of her hair. "At first, he was resistant, but when it became clear that I was aware of the situation, he had no choice but to entertain the crazy mutterings of your aunt." She chuckles quietly and continues, "But you see, Isabella, I was aware of every puzzle piece except one. What happened to Edward? Did he even know of your stunt? Carlisle was kind enough to fill me in and even kinder when I proposed my own solution to this travesty."

This time, Esme allows Isabella to lift her head, and their eyes meet, barely repressed curiosity stares into smug satisfaction. "Aunt Esme, what have you done?"

"Shhh, child," Esme soothes. "I have done nothing that did not benefit myself as much as you. You see, while you were lucky enough to escape your father's sadistic matches, I was not. I spent twelve years with a man I could not love, and when he finally passed, my brother, King Charles, demanded I return to Policia so that he could assign my next husband. I had no other recourse except to comply, but now I see a different option."

Isabella's brows furrow as she tries to put the pieces together. "I am not sure I understand."

"King Carlisle is a generous and powerful man. So powerful, he has the ability to see that I never have to return to Policia. If he is to marry a Princess of Policia, why should it not be the one whose heart is open to love?" Esme shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly and watches as realization dawns on her niece.

"Y-you?" Isabella stutters, as she has completely forgotten Esme's formal title.

Esme giggles, and it is a beautiful sound. "He is quite the catch."

Isabella stares at her, stunned. Her mind replays the words over and over until it grasps that there is another solution, and when she realizes this, her first thought goes to _him_. "But, Edward, he is gone," she says, her excitement fading and her eyes dropping to the floor.

"But that is the beauty of this plan, dear," Esme rushes to explain, tilting Isabella's chin up. "The people want a victory, and whether it is you or me will make no matter to them, especially once they hear that their revered lead knight has left Olympia because his love, who nursed him back to health, was here and betrothed to another. Besides, seeing their king happy and in love will go a long way."

"But," Isabella says, "you are not in love."

Esme tilts her head. "We are not, but being open to love is another matter completely. And I think we both are." She tsks and waves her hand. "But the people will believe what we show them."

"And Edward?" Isabella asks just as a light knock sounds at the door.

Esme stands and opens it with a flourish, revealing Carlisle on the other side. All the tension that had lined his face yesterday is completely invisible, and he is sporting a large smile. First, it lands on Esme, who flutters her lashes, before flitting to Isabella.

"I take it you two have spoken?" he asks, looking between the women.

"We have," Esme replies, moving back into the room to retake her seat. "Isabella was just asking about Edward."

Carlisle takes an empty seat. "I have already sent Emmett to look for him."

"But, my father?" Isabella says, worry lines creasing her brow.

"You father knows more than he should, but I think we can make it seem as if the affair he refers to was in the past when you saved Edward. By then, Esme and I will be married, and the people will have already been told the story we wished to share." Carlisle's voice is firm and commanding, and Isabella sees no reason the people would question him.

"So that is it?" Isabella asks. "Edward is safe to come back to Olympia, and you are marrying Esme? Does that mean that we—"

"It means exactly that, Isabella. You will be free to marry as you please, but sadly, our people will see you as a discarded bride." He scratches his chin, obviously uncomfortable. "I apologize that it must be that way, but I hope you understand."

Isabella lets out a laugh and grabs her chest as all the pressure she has been under releases. "I assure you, My Lord, I more than understand. I am grateful to you both in ways I am unable to put into words."

"I think we should both be grateful to Esme. Had she not approached me with the perfect solution, we would be stuck in a loveless marriage." Carlisle's eyes cut to the woman in question. "And now, at least I have hope."

Tears of happiness leak from Isabella's eyes, as for the first time in her adult life, she is finally free to love openly.

* * *

 **The next chapter is written and beta'd, but I need to make sure the one after coincides perfectly. So, hopefully, I can write that today and you'll still get Friday's update. If it's late, reworks had to be made.**

 **We're wrapping this one up soonish :)**


	30. So Be It

**Fran is my super beta, and has worked amazingly hard for you guys this week! Judyblue and 2browneyes helped me decide to post this chapter before the next :)**

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For the rest of that day and most of the next, the castle is abuzz with activity, but as time passes, quiet whispers begin making the rounds. Everyone seems to notice their smiling king and his constant companion. What intrigues them even more, is that their future queen is also present, and she seems to be in better spirits than usual, yet she remains on the outskirts.

The servants are in no position to question the acts of their leaders, and those nobles present are having too much fun gossiping behind their backs. But it is the trio at the center of all the talk who are having the most fun. Even with the burden of King Charles still looming, all three of them feel lighter and are quietly snickering at the antics of those around them. With the wedding scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, their act needs to be convincing, and judging by the looks and whispers, they are doing an excellent job.

By the time the sun has set and the evening meal has been digested, the Great Hall is overflowing with guests. For on the morrow, the people of Olympia will finally have a queen.

King Carlisle surveys the large crowd, noting that the lords from each of Olympia's tribes are present, along with most every notable guest he can recollect. This gives him pause. Should he simply make the announcement tonight? As he watches the bodies swing around the dance floor, he convinces himself that tonight is quite the appropriate time.

When he turns back to the table, both Policia Princesses are eyeing him. He first looks to Esme with a gentle smile, but then casts his eyes to Isabella with only a small touch of uncertainty. "Isabella, would you be offended if I made the announcement tonight?"

Esme gasps and leans closer, so they are not overheard. "Carlisle," she reprimands in a whisper. "You must be careful. Someone may overhear."

The king chuckles but humors her by moving his head closer. "Better?"

Isabella watches them, and a pleased smile curves her lips. They are such a perfect match that she believes if they had met naturally, Carlisle would have chosen Esme on his own. It fills her with warmth to see them settle into such a comfortable relationship so easily.

"Please," Isabella says with a large smile. "When, is of no matter to me. I am ready to show my support to my new future queen, and my guess is that the people of Olympia will feel the same."

"Then shall we?" Carlisle asks as he stands and holds out a hand to assist Esme from her seat. Once all three are gathered, a collective breath is taken before they make their way to the front of the room; Carlisle in the center with each on an elbow.

The entire chamber has almost come to a standstill as people notice the trio making their way through the hall. Murmurs pass through the crowd, but Carlisle is undeterred. He is ready to move past the debacle of an arrangement he and Isabella were burdened with and onto something that has the potential to be real.

"I would like everyone's attention," he announces loudly, quieting the room considerably. "I have an announcement that concerns tomorrow's proceedings."

He pauses and turns toward Isabella as Esme takes a step back. Taking her hand, he presents her to the people. "Isabella has a history with Olympia that I was unaware of until a few days ago. Do you remember months ago, when we thought we had lost Sir Edward?" The crowd responds with nods and the occasional shout. "It seems that it was Isabella who was responsible for his recovery. She nursed him back to health so that he could return to us, all without King Charles ever knowing he was in Policia."

The noise in the room rises as the crowd begins asking questions, but he speaks over them. "They fell in love, but she refused to return to Olympia with him because it would cause a war. Edward never even knew her true identity … until he won her hand at the tournament."

The rumbles again move through the crowd, except this time, Lord Black steps forward. "Carlisle, what exactly are you saying?"

"I am saying that Sir Edward left Olympia because he could not watch the woman he loves marry another."

Jacob lifts a suspicious brow as his eyes fall to the women he, himself, wanted for a wife. "How long have you known?"

The king sighs. "Edward told me right before he left, but that is not of consequence. What matters, is that somehow, King Charles has become aware of their previous affair, and he is planning something. He would use this information to split Olympia and make it ripe for a takeover."

"Why would an ancient affair have the power to divide Olympia," Jacob asks, his eyes never leaving the lovely, young princess.

King Carlisle, fed up with Lord Black's questions and blatant leering at Isabella, steps forward so he is now blocking the view. "Lord Black," he addresses in a formal tone. "No one can understand King Charles' motivations or plans. All we can do is be prepared." He moves back now and speaks louder. "If you would listen, I would like to share an alternative solution for us all."

When there is no negative reaction, King Carlisle smiles. "Thank you. The people of Olympia were rewarded with the hand of the Princess of Policia, but her heart is incapable of loving another." He pauses and brings Esme forth. "But here, I present to you the other Princess of Policia, who, quite frankly, has stolen my heart in just a few short days. It is my wish to release Isabella from this doomed union and commit myself to Esme Forge at tomorrow's ceremony."

The room breaks into a rumble, but King Carlisle pauses and allows them to come to terms with his sudden exchange of brides. Just as he goes to once again speak, a slow clap sounds from the back of the room as the crowd parts, revealing the source of the noise.

King Charles is making his way through the crowd with a large procession of knights surrounding him. King Carlisle's knights respond in kind, moving in to protect their king.

Carlisle catches Jasper's eye. "Secure the castle gate," he says quietly but urgently.

"It appears," King Charles starts, his voice sending a chill over the entire room, "that I am just in time. Who knew my deceitful sister would come to _be_ in a wedding instead of attending one," he snarls the words toward a cowering Esme before expelling a dark, angry laugh.

King Carlisle sees this and becomes enraged, stepping in front to conceal her. "You are in time for nothing. It is done."

"Ahh, that may be, which only means I will be taking my daughter back to Policia with me," King Charles declares, his eyes seeking Isabella who has already backed away from the scene.

"Over my dead body," Carlisle replies, his voice sure and steady, but inside his heart is thundering. The procession before him is a small army; twelve men stand armed and ready to do their king's bidding.

"So be it," Charles says, and with a battle cry, he charges the King of Olympia.

* * *

 **So yeah this is a cliffy, but let's consider it a "no he didn't" type cliffy, instead of a "dying to pick up here next chapter" cliffy. We'll be back with Edward next week to see his journey.**

 **This will probably post on Monday and Thurs next week, since I expect to have an Operation chapter on Friday :)**

 **I'll do what replies I can, but I'm writing as much as possible. I do read and love and appreciate every single one. Thank you all! Only a few more to go here … 6 or 7 probably.**


	31. Free?

**Fran was superwoman last week, making sure everyone had their chapters before she left on her trip. Have fun, Frannie! 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read these chapters XOXO**

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Edward exits the castle gates and leads Guardian toward his one stop at the Seattle markets to purchase dried meats and bread for his journey. It is his hope to push his horse hard during the daylight hours. With only two and a half days before the wedding, he intends to get as close to the Olympian border as possible.

With nothing to keep his attention, his mind strays to Bella and the final moments he was able to share with her. Though her actions hurt deeply, she was right. The life he was offering was not a life at all. If only he could go back, he would have made the right choice from the very beginning.

The sun passes overhead as he pushes his steed further and further from the Seattlitte castle. Though his plans are no longer definitive, he stays east as Alice has suggested. By nightfall, he has made it to the outskirts of Tacoma and stops at a small tavern situated away from the town center.

Leaving Guardian in the care of the stable-hand, he goes inside, seeking a cup of ale and a place to rest his head for a short night's rest. The inn is sparsely populated, and this gives him a mild sense of relief. Though he knows his movements will not be traced, he wishes to fade away and be completely forgotten.

"Sir, Edward," the innkeeper, Riley, shouts as soon as he sees the knight approaching the bar. "You are not in Seattle for our king's wedding?"

Edward puts on his mask and smiles. "There was word of possible trouble, so I made the ride to look into it. I should be back with plenty time."

Riley leans closer as he places a tin cup before the knight. "Is it concerning King Charles coming through here earlier today?"

Edward stiffens and suddenly Alice's motives for sending him east become more discernable. "He was invited to the wedding," Edward replies, keeping his voice steady, though he wishes to demand every single detail. "Did his procession stop here?"

"No," Riley replies. "A few of his guards came in for a bottle of ale as they passed through town."

"How long ago?" Edward asks, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.

"It was before the sun set. The citizens were tense, but there were no incidents."

Edward picks up his cup and swallows the ale in large gulps before replacing it on the bar with a nod. "One more, please."

Riley refills his ale and moves to tend to the next customer as Edward's mind works to come up with a plausible scenario for why King Charles is in Olympia. He was extended an invitation to the wedding, but he did not travel with Lady Forge as would have been expected.

Edward finishes his ale and stands, flipping a coin onto the bar, prompting Riley to return. "You'll not be staying, then?" Riley asks, pocketing the change.

"No, I will be going," Edward says, feeling as if something is amiss; his eyes shifting over the patrons. "You can never be too careful when the enemy is in your land."

As soon as he exits the inn, he starts questioning citizens on the street about King Charles. He learns that the king moved through here on his way to Seattle for the wedding of his only daughter, but this is not what concerns Edward most. It is the size of his personal guard, which puts him on alert; twelve knights led the procession.

Fear for his country moves through him in a way that has never before been present. The worry over Carlisle's wrath is minuscule when compared to the thoughts of the castle being taken from within.

He saddles Guardian and pushes the horse harder than ever before, heading toward Seattle. He cannot fathom how he missed the procession earlier, but at least this way he knows the dangers that lie between him and his home.

The trip is dark, and the forest is silent around him as the hoofbeats echo off the dirt. But it is when the scent of smoke fills his nostrils that he reins Guardian to a trot. A slight glow brightens the sky over the treetops, and he cannot help but investigate. Looping his horse to a tree near the road, he creeps deeper into the forest.

The sound of voices reaches his ears well before he can see the number of people. Closer and closer he moves, using the darkness for cover until conversations become clear. What he sees leaves him even more unsettled.

At least thirty knights are gathered around a fire.

"King Charles will enter and spread chaos before we make our move!" one man yells over the loud voices of the other knights. "By the time we cross the threshold, Olympia will already be in disarray, and the people will beg for us to lead them."

A roar spreads through the crowd as their plan becomes clear to Edward. King Carlisle put off informing the people of the treachery until the morning of the wedding so Edward could escape. Now, it will cost them all.

Edward slowly backs away and moves through the forest, more intent than ever to make it to his home in time. But he does not anticipate the three knights who discover his retreating form. With an arrow to the shoulder, they bring him to his knees.

"What do we have here?" one mocking voice asks as the men move in on the captor.

"I am a knight of the Olympian guard. You would do well to release me," Edward states, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

The men burst into a round of laughs. "Why ever would we do that? Just one less for us to defeat tomorrow night." The laughter continues as a heavy boot is lifted and then stomped into Edward's head until he is unconscious.

"Edward," someone says, with an accompanying slap to his cheeks. "Edward!"

His mind is hazy, and the sunlight hurts his eyes as he tries to peel them open. "No! Edward! Wake up," the voice orders.

Fighting the pain in his head, Edward struggles to open his eyes and put a name to the voice he knows but cannot place. "E-Em-Emmett?" he finally croaks.

Edward can feel his body being jostled, but it is not until he slumps to the ground, his arms freed, that he realizes he was even tied. "What happened?" he asks, searching through his memory.

"I was searching for you," Emmett says, looking him over. "I saw Guardian tied near the roadside and decided to take a closer look."

It is then that everything hits at once, and Edward jumps up with a grimace, his body sore from being trussed. "King Charles!" he exclaims, grabbing Emmett by the shoulders. "His army will attack tonight!"

"Well, then it is a good thing I found you," Emmett replies with a shrug. "King Carlisle sent me in search of you. He said to tell you that Lady Isabella is free."

For one moment, Edward is stunned. "Free?" he repeats, his mind unbelieving the message Emmett has just delivered.

"Carlisle is marrying Lady Forge tomorrow," Emmett says with a hearty slap to Edward's injured shoulder.

Edward cringes, but his mind is spinning too fast to do much more.

Isabella is free.

And she is in imminent danger.

* * *

 **Okay, I have myself on a strict writing schedule, so no replies for this chapter, though I hear they're down anyway. The plus side is, TB posts again on Thursday and Operation Nail The Swan posts Friday. I'm going to try to tease Operation on my FB page "Fyregirl Fics" later this week!**

 **See you Thursday :)**


	32. A Battle Within

**Huge thanks to super-fast, super-beta Fran! 2browneyes and Judyblue preread for me XOXOXO**

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By the time Emmett and Edward make it back to the Seattle village, the sun has already set, and the people are in the streets due to the sounds of battle that echo from the castle. The loud but steady boom that reverberates through the night air speaks to a battering ram at the gate.

"Sir, Edward!" someone from the crowd calls.

Even though he hates to waste any time, he slows to a trot. "The castle is under attack! Emmett and I must make haste."

"Can we help?" comes a yell.

This causes Edward to pull to a stop and really take notice of the people around him. At least forty men stand armed with weapons ranging from a bow and arrow to a shovel.

He addresses them. "Are you prepared to give your life for your country? There is an army of at least thirty Policia knights attempting to enter the gates. They are well-trained and weaponized."

"This is our home," one man replies, and the others yell and lift their meager weapons in the air in agreement.

Though Edward knows this will slow him down, it is also an unexpected element of surprise. "King Charles has already breached the castle. Emmett and I will fight our way inside, while you head for the gates to stop the assault."

"How many have bows?" He looks over the crowd and watches as at least ten men step forward. "Good. This is your first line of defense. Take out as many as possible from a distance before you engage. I will send knights to aid you as soon as I can. Let us go now. Our king is in danger!"

After his speech, Edward and Emmett lead the procession toward the castle. When they have gotten within sight of the men attempting to burst through the gate, Edward pauses and takes count.

Twenty-two. That means the other eight made it inside. An army of twenty is inside the castle, along with King Charles himself.

He motions the first line forth and positions them to rain arrows on the unsuspecting knights. "Fire!" he orders with a triumphant yell.

As soon as the arrows fly, Edward motions for Emmett to follow him into the forest. Though Emmett is confused, he follows his leader without question. The night is dark, but the moon offers just enough rays to guide them to a place that Edward knows well. A place that was to be his escape with Bella.

Tethering their horses, Edward leads Emmett to the opening of the tunnel and is thankful for his preparedness, even though it was for a doomed plan. He wastes no time in lighting the kindling and sticking the torch he had hung on the wall to the flame. The dark passage comes to light, and Edward leads the way, preparing a second torch for Emmett to carry.

"We will come out on the castle grounds at the back of the garden. I need you to apprise our knights of the battle at the gate and help the people. I will search for our king. There are at least twenty men inside the gates already, and casualties are likely." Edward wastes no time in giving Emmett his orders as they travel speedily through the tunnel. "Aside from my king, I must find Bella. I cannot have been told she is free only to lose her."

Emmett grips his shoulder as they reach the door that will allow them onto the castle grounds. "I understand, Edward, and I trust you. See that King Charles can never again threaten our country."

With a firm nod, Edward swings the door wide, and the sound of clashing steel and screams reach their ears. An urgency moves through them as they separate, Emmett running toward the fray, and Edward barreling toward his next tunnel, one that will bring him into the dungeon.

His mind is frantic but his resolve is calm, for this is what he does best. He is a warrior and cannot allow emotion to cloud his mind. Instead, he needs to harness it and use it as an additional tool.

Once in the dungeon, he quickly uses the tunnels to make it to his room where he dons his chainmail and breastplate, along with arming himself with every weapon he left behind. From there, he enters the hallway and moves swiftly but surely toward the Great Hall. Carnage meets his eyes as Policia knights, Olympian knights, and even nobles lie haphazardly across the floor.

He breathes a sigh of relief when none of them are Bella or Carlisle, in fact, there are no women here. A sound draws his attention, and he turns, sword at the ready, only to find a struggling Jacob Black.

He rushes over and drops beside him. "Where is the king?" he asks, frantically.

"Ki"—he sputters blood—"King Charles. He is … he is after Lady Isabella." His breaths are short and choppy as he grips Edward tightly. "Ca-Carlisle is trying to protect her."

"Where!" Edward screams, shaking his limp frame. "Where are they!"

Jacob's head lolls, but he lifts his arm and points to the staircase. Edward drops him and takes off in a run. He has no time to feel for the already dead. Sprinting up the stairs, he stretches his hearing, more desperate to lay eyes on his love than ever.

Praying that Bella hid, he runs to the library, going directly for the secret passage. As soon as he is inside, he can hear the whispers, and when he turns the corner, he sees the women. Frantically he rushes down the line, looking for Bella. He finally finds Alice near the entrance to Bella's chambers.

"Where is she," he cries, shoving past huddled females in his desperation.

"King Charles has captured her and Lady Forge!" Alice says, gripping onto his arm tightly. "Jasper and King Carlisle were fighting, but there were many more of them left standing. Please, Edward, you must save them. King Charles must fall."

He grips her tightly. "Where are they?"

Alice closes her eyes and calls her visions to her memory. "It is a large room, a bedchamber," she exclaims, pleased that she can identify the location. She closes her eyes again. "Rich red draperies are lining the bed, and silk tapestries hang upon the walls."

Edward takes off, needing no more information. King Carlisle's room. He exits into Bella's bedchambers, and hurriedly makes his way to the door. Slowly and quietly, he swings it open and peers outside. Sticking close to the walls, he travels the hallway that will lead him to his love.

When he gets to the corner, he pauses and leans over. Two guards. With a nudge, a painting falls from the wall with a loud thump as he readies for battle. As soon as the knight rounds the corner, Edward stabs his dagger in his side, between the plates of his armor. As the knight sinks to his knees, Edward slices his throat, just in time to stand and face the second knight.

"Edward Masen of Seattle," the knight says, pleasantly surprised. "It will be my pleasure to end you."

"If only you could do the job," Edward replies as the two men circle each other.

Edward is very aware that he is wasting precious seconds, and he cannot imagine what his Bella is enduring. Parrying left, he spins to the right and plants his dagger in the knight's sword arm, causing it to clatter to the floor. In the same fluid move, his sword is drawn and he severs the knight's head as he bends to remove the dagger.

With fresh blood dripping from his sword, he bursts through the door to Carlisle's bedchamber. The scene before him sends rage running through his system, and he charges, two Policia knights meeting him with fury.

Their swords clash in a flurry of motion, but the knights are no match for an enraged Edward. Both fall swiftly, but in the end, it does not matter.

For when he rounds on King Charles, he finds a blade to Bella's throat.

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 **I'll reply as much as possible, and I have two written for next week!**

 **See you Tuesday :)**


	33. The Bloodied King

**Fran betas, and 2browneyes and Judyblue preread!**

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 **Please make sure you read the last chapter since FF is having issues!**

Bella's heart is thumping wildly inside her chest, yet it is not due to the blade that rests against her throat, but at the man who stands across from her. Edward is here and angrier than she has ever witnessed. His hair is stained with dried blood, while fresh crimson drips from his hands and weapons. Her heart aches to hold him, to assure herself he has returned, but their current predicament forbids her from following through.

Edward stands stiff with his sword at the ready, his hard eyes focused on King Charles, for if he allows them to fall to his Bella, his actions will be fueled by anger and hatred instead of the cold calculation he needs at this moment.

The scene around him is disheartening. Carlisle is tied to a chair in the corner, his head drooping after having been knocked unconscious; blood dripping from his chin. Esme is spread upon the bed in only a shift, her hands tied to the headboard, though her frightened eyes are open. And Jasper. He is slouched against the back wall, a dagger stuck into his leg, his arm lacerated and his face a bloodied pulp. Though two dead knights lie not far away, Edward can only hope that he still lives.

A dark laugh falls from the lips of his enemy. "You would do well to lower your sword," King Charles tells the brave knight. At Edward's hesitance, he pushes the blade deeper into Isabella's skin, causing blood to trickle from the fresh wound.

Edward's stance loosens, and his sword clatters to the floor. "I do not need a sword to kill you." He balls his fists, fighting to remain in his spot. "And you _will_ die."

King Charles chuckles and pans his eyes across the room before returning to Edward. "It seems that I am the one in control of this situation. It is me against you, but I have something we both want, something we both love."

Edward takes a step forward, incensed, but pauses when Bella lets out a yelp due to the knife digging deeper. "You do not love her!" he screams, his muscles locked to keep from charging Charles. "She is mine, and you will never leave this castle alive."

Though King Charles is enjoying this game, he is anxious to make his escape. He grips Isabella's hair with his free hand, lifting her from the seat, making sure to keep the dagger securely to her throat. "With the engagement over, she belongs to me. We will be returning to Policia, and you will allow it or watch her die before your very eyes."

For the first time, Edward meets Bella's eyes. Her love and longing are shining bright within them, but there is also something else; something he is very familiar with. Defiance. It is overriding the tender emotions he had expected to pass between them. Her love fills him, and her strength reenergizes him.

With a nod to his love, he says, "I would rather die beside her than allow you to take her."

Things happen very quickly after that. A loud roar rises from outside the castle and echoes through the room; the people of Olympia are celebrating. King Charles pulls Isabella back toward the window in an attempt to see what the commotion is about. Jasper suddenly moves, pushing his injured leg to stretch across the floor, causing the unsuspecting king to stumble.

Bella takes advantage of his instability and begins fighting to get away. King Charles is fervently trying to maintain balance and his hold on Isabella at the same time. The dagger falls to the floor, but he grips her throat tightly.

Edward recognizes his opportunity and flies across the room, knocking Charles away from his Bella and onto the floor. She falls in the opposite direction, sputtering to regain her breath while Edward and her father are locked in a grappling match.

Edward's rage is palpable as he struggles with King Charles. The two men trade punches and kicks as they roll over the floor, each looking to obtain the upper hand. But the old, out of shape king is no match for the younger incensed knight and soon succumbs to blow after blow to his head.

"You will never," Edward says as he lands another large fist into Charles' nose. "Never again touch her."

His rage is out of control, and when the blood has covered Charles' face so much that Edward's blows are slipping off, he pauses and grabs his dagger, pushing it into the bloodied king's neck.

"How does it feel?" he asks, sliding the blade to make a shallow cut. "Does it pain you to know that your life is over? You will never return to Policia and your reign of terror is over."

"Edward," Jasper groans from his slumped position only feet away. "No."

Bella, realizing the desperateness of the situation, moves to her beloved's side. "Edward," she says as she grasps one of his tensed arms. "Please, you cannot. He must be detained not murdered."

The fury that fills Edward lessens with the sounds of her voice, but he does not remove the blade. "He must pay for his crimes."

"Yes, Edward, but it will be King Carlisle who orders his death," Bella reasons, leaning closer to scan the pathetic form on the floor.

"Carlisle," Edward mutters, his eyes snapping to his king's slumped form.

Bella jumps up and goes to Esme, untying the rope that keeps her tethered to the bed. "Go to Carlisle," she murmurs as she helps her aunt into a sitting position.

As Esme moves to the king, Bella returns to her knight who is less tense but still braced firmly over her father. "Edward," she whispers, running her palm up and down his arm. "Esme is tending to King Carlisle. Can we tie … _this man_ up so that you can assist her?"

"Jasper," Alice yells as she enters the room and runs to her future husband, kneeling by his side.

"Alice," Bella calls, never moving from Edward's side. "We need help in here."

"Help is on the way, Bella," Alice says as she fusses over Jasper, lifting his head into her lap and rubbing his brow. "Everyone will survive." Her eyes then flit to King Charles. "Well, almost everyone. Edward," she calls his name forcefully, "you must not act on your emotions. King Charles will pay with his life, but not at your hand."

The words settle into Edward's brain as a commotion behind them brings many bodies into the room. Someone grabs the beaten former king, and Edward is finally able to release his firm hold on the wretched excuse for a man.

She is here; right beside him, touching him, yet he was too blinded by rage to realize his most prized possession was within his grasp ... the only thing that matters now is that he is free to hold her.

His Bella.

She flings herself into his arms, and together, they relish a feeling they've never before had.

The ability to openly love each other.

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 **Next post is Friday in case notifications are still out!**

 **See you then :)**


	34. Sentenced to Death

**Fabulous Fran is the beta, and yeah, I added a little after she had this one, so you know the drill—all mistakes are mine. 2browneyes and Judyblue pre-read. Thanks, ladies!**

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The following days are trying for the people of Olympia. The loss of civilian life was unprecedented due to the number of wedding attendees present at the castle at the time of the attack. Eleven of Seattle's knights gave their lives while defending their homeland, but in the end, the mission was a success.

The king is recovering but suffered a fairly traumatic blow to the head, which required a few days of rest. Of the wounded survivors, Jasper is in the worst shape, but he will pull through and is healing each day.

King Charles and five of his army are housed in the dungeon, and twenty-eight more were killed in the fight, while the remaining nine fled. Three lords from the Olympian tribes were also slain, including Jacob Black. The Kingdom is in mourning, but it is also ready to move forward and embrace its future.

As Edward pushes the painting aside, he eagerly peeks into the room, spotting his love, fast asleep on her bed. A sigh escapes him at her beauty as the early morning rays cast a hazy glow over the chamber. Walking quietly, he approaches and stretches out his hand, gently running it down her hair, so as not to scare her. She sighs and nuzzles closer to his palm as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Good morning, love," he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "I know you are awake, I heard your breath quicken."

A quiet giggle escapes before her eyes open, revealing warm brown. "Good morning, sir," she says with a playful smile as she scoots over, pulling him down beside her. "Are you here to ravage me?"

Edward, who was in the middle of complying with her insistent hands, freezes. "Do not tempt me, Bella," he says sternly.

"I will do more than tempt you," she replies, her voice breathy yet assertive. "I have missed you, Edward."

He braces on his elbow, facing her, with his free hand cupping her cheek. "Bella," he says, his voice soft and pleading. "You will never have to miss me again. I am here, and I am yours, but I had hoped"—he brushes his thumb over her bottom lip—"we would be married the next time we joined as one flesh."

Bella opens her lips and nips at his thumb. "The sentiment is sweet, but I think we both know it matters not."

Edward removes his thumb and replaces it with his lips. He is forceful as his tongue explores the confines of her mouth. With his hand guiding her head, they engage in a wicked, heated kiss. By the time they separate with soft passes of lips, both are breathing heavier.

"Bella," Edward starts softly, his hand pushing her hair over her shoulder. "I have made every mistake imaginable with you; from taking your virginity in Policia to carrying on an affair with you here. You are free to choose your path now, and I will not continue to exploit you any further. I love you. I want you to be mine, but only if you want that, too. This time, I promise to do it right."

Bella's brows furrow before a spark of mirth shines in her eyes. "Edward Masen, are you asking me to marry you?"

He heaves a heavy sigh and shakes his head. This woman is much smarter than she should be. "I was leading in that direction, but I had not made it to that part yet."

"Edward,' she states softly. "I do not need fanfare. I only need you. So, the answer is yes, yes I will marry you."

A smile spreads across Edward's lips. "How soon?"

Bella's brows rise. "How soon would you like?"

"The same day Carlisle and Esme are to wed," he says hurriedly. "I know it is fast, but when Carlisle made the suggestion, I could not help but think of it nonstop."

Bella places her fingers over his lips. "You do not need to convince me."

The smile that spreads across her knight's face lights her world, and the couple engage in a heavy petting session to celebrate their upcoming nuptials, but all too soon, reality rears its weary head.

"Your father's trial is today," Edward says, while they lie in a tight embrace, to gauge her reaction.

"Good," she breathes, after only a slight pause. "I want him gone from this earth before I move into the next phase of my life."

"Then it shall be," Edward responds as he moves in once again to kiss her senseless.

Several hours later and the throne room is crammed with bodies. It seems as if the whole village of Seattle has made the trek to the castle to witness the trial of King Charles—or shall we say death, instead. The trial is a formality at most.

King Carlisle sits upon his throne with his future wife by his side on the queen's throne. Edward, Bella and a procession of the guard are gathered around their leaders upon the dais. Before them, in shackles and on his knees, is Charles Swan.

"We are gathered here today to find a suitable punishment for the previous King of Policia for his crimes of war against Olympia," Carlisle announces loudly over the chants of "death, death, death" that fill the room. "You are charged with attempted murder of a rival king, and the slaying of his people. What say you, Charles Swan?"

The former king, though beaten, refuses to submit. He lifts his weary head and casts his stare over the procession before him. With a nasty leer, he shouts, "Kill me! Kill me, but you will never break me!"

The chants from the crowd grow louder. "Death, death, death," they repeat until the room is so loud King Charles can no longer be heard.

Carlisle lifts his hands to settle the raucous crowd. "King Charles, you are hereby sentenced to death by quartering on this very afternoon," he announces with authority.

A loud cheer sounds from the crowd as everyone in the room begins making their way to the courtyard where preparations are already in place. The crowd gathers, lining each side, striving to get the best view as the guard drags the prisoner to the site of his death.

King Carlisle and Lady Forge have moved to a second-floor balcony, taking advantage of the optimal view. He smiles as he watches Edward make his way to the center of the action.

"If I may, Your Highness?" Edward motions to the fallen king, requesting permission to carry out the death sentence.

"So be it," King Carlisle agrees, a swell of pride moving through him.

As his knights shackle each of King Charles' appendages to a separate horse, Edward's eyes search the audience, seeking his love. When they meet, she is smiling. He returns it and focuses back on the vile man who harmed her repeatedly.

Leaning down, he whispers, "This is for threatening Bella," before stepping back and lifting the whip to snap it once. The horses tense and rise onto their hindquarters, causing the ropes to tighten, which begins to pull the failed king in four directions. The crowd quietens as his wails fill the air.

It is only the sight of his Bella moving toward him that causes Edward to pause. Her rushed motions alarm him slightly, but as she moved closer he can see the determination in her stance.

The horses have settled, which allows Charles a reprieve. When he sees his daughter, he begins screaming. "Isabella, stop this madness! I am your father!"

But she pays him no mind. She moves to Edward with surety and steps before him, lining her back to his chest. She braces one hand on his hip and runs the other up his arm, her grip closing on where he holds the whip.

Edward, understanding her immediately, makes one slow motion so that she may get a feel for the necessary motion. The slight snap causes the horses to again buck, the torture underway once more.

Bella takes a deep breath and looks to her love. "Let us end this."

With a nod, Edward and Bella send several vicious cracks into the air. Each horse takes off in a different direction as a sharp shriek fills the air before fading rather quickly.

His death is swift, yet satisfying, and the Kingdom of Olympia basks in the realization that they are now free from the threat which has plagued them for years.

Now they can look forward.

Two weddings, the coronation of their new queen and a peaceful relationship with Policia are all within their reach.

Because it also has a new queen, if only they will accept her rule.

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 **Okay, it's looking like three more and an epi.**

 **Sorry about replies, I got about half of you, I think. I have a confession. A new side-project popped up last week, (I got to be one of the first to read Starry Eyed Inside OF … like O.M.G.), and I couldn't, wouldn't, never ever say no, so it kinda put me behind a little, which is sorta why I'm slacking so much on replies this week, catching up on my writing.**

 **Operation posts next Friday, so that means you get TB on Monday and Thursday. See you then :)**


	35. Holy Matrimony

**Fran is the super beta who got this back to me in time for the early post, and 2browneyes and Judyblue are my pre-readers XOXOXO!**

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"Are you pleased with the final alterations?" Alice asks excitedly as she works to tighten the corset of Bella's gown. "The removal of the additional flourishes make it much more appropriate for a knightly wedding."

Bella casts her eyes down and moves her hands along the waist of her gown, brushing against the silk. She looks up with a happy sigh. "Any gown would have sufficed for this day. I only wish to be united in matrimony to my betrothed."

"Alice," Angela interrupts their conversation. "Lady Esme requires your assistance. I can finish the laces."

Alice flutters about, collecting her accessories before moving across the room where their future queen has just donned her own gown. Though she did not pack for a wedding, her gowns are of the finest materials Policia has to offer; therefore, only slight additions were required to make one fitting for a queen.

After both ladies are dressed, two maidens enter to begin the task of giving them intricately designed hair styles. They each sit in a chair where they are close enough to engage in a personal conversation.

"Are you sure this is the right decision?" Esme asks quietly, her concern for her niece seeping into her tone.

Isabella is sitting ramrod straight as the maiden tugs and pulls on her hair, but she is still able to smile. "Oh, Esme, I think it is not only the right decision but the only one. Policia is my home, and with my father gone, my country is in turmoil. I cannot allow it to fall into the hands of another cruel leader, especially by force."

"But what if the people refuse your rule or your marriage to Edward? What will you do then?" Though Esme understands exactly what Isabella is saying, her fear that the people of Policia will refuse her outright is what urges her to speak. "Carlisle has already sent an envoy. All I am asking is to hold off until word comes of their reception."

Stretching her hand, Isabella waits for Esme to grip it tightly. "I cannot," she says simply, returning the ferocity of her grasp. "My people need me, and I need Edward. They will accept him as they will accept me. I have faith that they will be overjoyed that their tyrannical existence has come to an end."

"I only just got you back," Esme responds, and a tear slips down her cheek.

Isabella is so overcome that she stops the maiden who is working on her hair and stands, opening her arms for her aunt. "Though we will be separated, our countries will once again be allies," she says as she closes her arms around her for a hug. When they pull back, both women have tears leaking down their cheeks. "We shall create a safe environment for the citizens of both Olympia and Policia so that we may heal the wounds time has placed upon our people."

Esme brushes her thumbs under Isabella's eyes, wiping the tears away. "Then I hope for your sake, the people are as open as you expect."

Isabella smiles wistfully. "Though my father never gave me any responsibility, I was always raised as if I would one day rule, well; my husband would, in my father's eyes." She shakes her head at the notion. "Up until the announcement of the tournament, the people expected me to one day be their queen. Sending me to another land caused quite the uproar, though it mattered not. King Charles schemed as he saw fit, not for the benefit of his people." Gripping Esme's hands tightly, she pulls them to her chest. "With Edward by my side, Policia could not ask for a better future."

Esme finally is able to form her own smile. "Oh, Isabella, I forget how mature you truly are sometimes. If anyone can do this, it is you."

A loud clapping breaks into their moment. "All right, ladies. I allowed this conversation, but tears were never supposed to happen. Now we must get your faces refreshed and your hair finished." Alice starts handing out orders to the maidens who had moved to allow the two women their talk.

A set of giddy smiles pass between them as their excitement over their nuptials returns to the forefront. The remaining time flies by in a rush as they are pampered and primped into perfection.

Because of the abnormalities that were already plaguing this wedding—change in brides, postponed by the battle, and lastly, the addition of Edward and Isabella's nuptials—many, formal royal traditions are being waylaid for a more open ceremony. Each couple will walk the aisle together, with Edward and Isabella committing to their vows first. Afterward, they will each stand for their counterparts as the king and his new queen join in holy matrimony. Immediately following the wedding, the archbishop will step in to perform the coronation.

Tomorrow, Edward and Isabella leave for Policia.

Alice leads the ladies to the top of the main staircase, where the two handsome men await with stunned smiles upon their faces. Each man is focused on his own, finely dressed woman.

For Edward, his betrothed is more beautiful than he has ever seen, and that is considerable, since she has always been a breath of beauty in his life. Her deep blue gown clings to her upper body, accentuating her trim figure. But it is the overflowing expression of love that beams from her that calls to his soul.

He steps forth, arms open. "Bella, I … I am speechless."

A soft, excited giggle escapes his intended as she steps into his arms and reaches to kiss him on the cheek. "You, my knight, are every bit as handsome."

While this couple is lost in each other, the other is content with their decision and ready to also move forth.

"Esme, you are exceedingly lovely this afternoon," King Carlisle remarks. He is dressed in his finest clothes with a deep red robe hanging from his shoulders and his large, jeweled crown upon his head.

"Thank you, My Lord," Esme says with a slight curtsey as she takes his proffered elbow.

Carlisle clears his throat and looks away from the woman who is sure to steal his heart. "Shall we?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Edward says, coming out of his Bella-induced-trance. "Lead the way, sire." He takes Isabella's hand and places it on his forearm, covering it with his own. He wishes to touch every part of her, but for now, this will have to do.

Once they exit the castle in the rear and move toward the grounds, a round of applause breaks out from the attendees. Everyone is standing, and the space is overflowing with bodies of Olympian citizens from peasants to nobles.

Carlisle and Esme are the first to walk the aisle. They take slow, measured steps as the crowd chants and claps their excitement. Once they are standing at the far end, all eyes turn to Edward and Bella.

The knight offers his lady a tender smile before facing forward and leading her up the flower-lined aisle. The eyes of every guest are on them as they watch their hero and his princess travel the path to matrimony, knowing they are the future of a newly freed Policia.

The aisle ends with the priest standing under a large wooden, flower decorated arch, and he steps forth as soon as the couple comes to a stop. The whispers in the crowd fall silent as the king and future queen step to the side as witnesses.

The priest clears his throat. "We are gathered here today to bear witness two royal unions. Let us begin with Sir Edward Masen of Seattle and Princess Isabella Swan of Policia."

The crowds erupt into a small round of applause before settling in to hear them repeat their vows …

" _Edward Masen wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife to live together after God's ordinance in the Holy Estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her? Comfort her, honor and protect her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her as long as you both shall live?"_

Edward's eyes fall to his love. "I will," he says surely and confidently.

"Then repeat after me," the priest replies. _"I, Edward, take thee … "_

Edward turns to face his betrothed, and the love he sees shining in her eyes does nothing but spur his heart into erratic beats as he prepares to take the final step to make her his. Almost overcome with his own emotion, he repeats after the priest.

Then the priest turns to the bride ...

 _"Isabella, wilt though have this man as thy wedded husband, wilt thy love him, and honor him, keep and guard him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband, and forsaking all others on account of him, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?" the priest asks._

Isabella meets the eyes of her intended. "I will," she vows with a tilt of her head.

"Then repeat after me," the priest replies. _"I, Isabella, take thee … "_

Isabella repeats after the priest, and for her final line, she turns to her betrothed. _"And thereto I plight thee my troth."_

" _By the power vested in me by the Holy Church, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."_

The man who now holds her fate in his hands turns to lift her veil.

With a chaste, but gentle kiss, he claims her as his bride for all of the world to see.

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 **Pretty sure a double wedding, especially with the king and future queen, wasn't all the rage, if ever lol. So, let's suspend that reality a little. Also, the prologue had a priest marrying them, so I left it at that. The archbishop will step in for the coronation.**

 **I am going to reply to every single review! See you Thursday :)**


	36. Husband and Wife

**Fran beta's, and I add when she's done—this chapter, only 400 more words, BUT they are to your benefit! I felt I was cheating on the lemon so I made it more. 2browneyes and Judyblue are my fabulous pre-readers!**

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As soon as all vows have been said, the crowd erupts in loud cheers and applause. Not only are they free from a long-standing enemy, but now their honorable, yet lonely, king has finally found his queen. A night of celebration is to be had, but first, there is one more formality to attend to.

Lady Cullen's coronation.

Carlisle takes Esme's hand and faces the crowd, holding up his other. "If I may have your attention," he says, quieting the rambunctious crowd. "We would like to see this formality done as quickly as possible, so please maintain order, and we can celebrate soon." A round of applause meets his ears before quieting quickly.

Carlisle turns Esme to face the archbishop, who has moved into position, replacing the priest who had married them. In past times, this was a very formal affair, but in light of recent circumstances, the king has decreed it be shortened so that his kingdom can finally celebrate their victory with confidence that they are safe and secure, and embrace a queen that has taken ages to obtain.

As the archbishop starts the ceremony, the other newly married couple blends into the crowd, no longer wishing to be at the center of attention. They seemingly cannot keep their hands to themselves. Edward is holding his Bella tightly against him, his free hand roaming the expanse of her back, his lips occasionally finding her bare neck to place lingering, open-mouthed kisses. Chills race across the delicate skin, sending a surge to his lower extremity. For the first time in their history when it comes to his love, Edward will be doing right by her. That thought alone is sending his system into overdrive. His need for her is stronger than it has ever been.

For Bella's part, she is standing with a cordial smile aimed at the goings on before them, yet her body is tense and desperate beneath the façade. Every touch of his skin and lips upon her is maddening; her thighs are gripped tightly together beneath the layers of her gown.

"I am not sure how long I can wait," Edward whispers into her ear after another tortuous kiss to her neck.

Were it not for the firm support from his arm around her waist, Bella would have crumpled under the weight of his desperate confession. She turns her body so that she is in his arms. "Husband," she says as quietly as possible. "You are torturing me."

He pulls her even closer, placing a small peck upon her inviting lips, only to pull back slightly. "One dance, Bella."

Her brows furrow slightly, so he leans so that his lips brush against her ear as he speaks. "I will remain in this public setting for only one dance. As soon as it is over, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you away if necessary."

He pulls back to read her expression, and it does not surprise him to find her pupils dilated with her lips slightly parted. "Yes, husband," she breathes, running her tongue over her lower lip.

Edward smirks and turns her body so that her back is to his chest as they catch the ending of the ceremony and are just in time to join in the raucous round of applause. Pleased that this final commitment is complete, Edward wastes no time in approaching his king and queen to offer congratulations.

He falls to his knees, and his wife joins him. "My wife and I would like to offer our allegiance to the King and Queen of Olympia. Should the people of Policia accept her reign, the bond between our two countries will be strong for the first time in many years."

While Queen Esme has already teared up, it is King Carlisle who surprises all in attendance. With no preamble, he grabs his former lead knight and pulls him to his feet, effectively bringing Isabella with them.

"My son," he starts, clapping a firm grip on his shoulder. "I have never been more proud of you than I am now." He angles his attention to Isabella. "There is no way the people of Policia will reject you as their Queen. Olympia swears its support in any way needed and will be your ally on all accounts. You are a brave woman, Isabella, and with Edward by your side, I have no doubt you will conquer whatever you strive for." He pulls them both into an affectionate hug.

When they separate, Bella says, "Your Highness, I accept your offer of support, and my kingdom will be a longstanding ally."

Voices begin to murmur in the background as the crowd comes to life now that the formalities are done. "Let the celebration begin!" Carlisle announces loudly.

King Carlisle and Queen Esme take the lead as the two couples move down the aisle and back into the castle where a feast has been prepared, the large crowd falling in line behind them. The Great Hall is decorated for a celebration with musicians in the corner already playing their tunes as the large crowd fills the space and spills into the hallways.

Some begin eating, some approach their king and queen and some start dancing. It is the latter in which Edward and Bella choose to partake, because just as Edward promised, it will be the only one spent in public company. For within moments of its ending, he has his wife on his arm and up the grand staircase.

Bella's quiet giggles echo down the hallway as Edward has her pinned against the wall, his lips are drawn to her open skin, which is too hard to resist. "Please, husband," she begs, unsure whether it is for him to stop or continue.

But he cannot stop, his member is hard beneath his breeches, and her breathy sounds are driving him mad. "I cannot. I need to be inside you," he says between nips and licks. "I burn for you, Bella."

Her head thumps against the wall as she fights to regain control. After several deep breaths, she catches his face between her hands. "Then have me, but not here. Take me to bed, Edward."

The desire in her eyes spurs him into action. He lifts her like the bride she is and charges toward her chambers. Kicking the door closed behind him, he approaches the bed and tosses her onto it, only to stand and begin ridding himself of the confines of his clothing. When he is completely naked before her, his body slides against hers as he braces over her, the puffiness of her dress frustrating him.

"How do I rid you of this nightmare?" he asks as he seeks skin underneath the garment. But when his hand finds purchase, he loses interest as his fingers follow the expanse of her thigh, seeking the warm moisture that is hidden within her center.

When contact is made, two bodies sigh simultaneously, but as his finger slips inside an unbidden moan builds inside her chest. "I have missed this," she cries as his movements speed.

Edward is so desperate to feel his wife beneath him that he slips out swiftly, leaving her stunned and panting heavily. "Wh—"

He shoves his tongue into her mouth to quiet her protests. When she has sufficiently settled, he pulls back and stares into her eyes. "This gown must go."

Bella sits up and turns her back to him. "Unlace it."

Edward smirks and jumps from the bed, retrieving his dagger, only to return and slit the laces so they part easily. When Bella gasps and turns to him with a stunned expression, he tosses the knife and attacks, stripping the offending material from her body.

The husband and wife tangle together in a jumble of naked skin, seeking hands and parted lips. Their passion burns hot as they race to soothe a need that can never fully be quenched.

He is braced over her, and as he buries himself inside her, she throws her head back in pleasure, his lips thirsting to taste all the bare skin that is spread beneath him. Her pert buds are like a beacon, calling him to suckle them, and his mouth greedily latches on, eliciting a moan from her parted lips.

Her thighs cradle his warrior-hard body as he thrusts into her at a torturously slow pace, each movement meant to drive her mad. His lips suck and caress across her breasts, and she writhes beneath him, her breaths choppy and strained. She grips his hair and tugs sharply, bringing his mouth to hers and shoving her tongue inside.

When they no longer have breath to maintain their deep kiss, he lifts and pierces her with intent eyes. "Show me, Bella," he groans as he thrusts slowly. "Show me what would please you." He rolls to the side and urges her to mount him.

Though this is new to her, Bella is so desperate to be joined with him again that she eagerly straddles his waist and envelops him again. He laces their fingers together and provides leverage as her body begins rocking over him. "Look at me, Bella," he growls as her eyes attempt to fall closed.

She snaps them open and locks onto his; the love shining there sends a surge of lust to where they are connected, and her movements speed. She moves over him, setting a pace that takes her breath, but she does not need it. She does not want it. She only wants him and this feeling to last forever.

As she falters above him, he moves her hands to his shoulders. "Grip me," he says through gritted teeth as he struggles to keep his seed from spilling. His hands then follow the curve of her waist and grips her hips to provide assistance, speeding her thrusts to an almost frantic pace.

"Ahhh, Edward," she cries as her passion explodes.

His jaw only clenches as he watches her shatter above him, committing the image in his memory so that he will never forget the greatest sight of his life. One he intends to repeat over and over again, in every imaginable way.

This is the way it should have always been with them.

Their destiny.

Husband and wife.

* * *

 **IDK how replies will be. I only have one chapter for next week so far; I still need to write the epi. I did get every one from Monday though, and I am trying to do Operation ones since I didn't get all those last time.**

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 **See you Tuesday :)**


	37. Welcome to Policia

**Fran is a gem and got this back on time, but I spent all morning working on the ending, so if there are any mistakes, they're definitely mine. Judyblue and 2browneyes are my lovely pre-readers.**

* * *

Four days after their wedding, Bella and Edward, along with a collection of knights from the differing tribes of Olympia, are on a ship close to Policia shores. After two days in a carriage, Bella was relieved to learn that the remainder of their journey was by ship, cutting off at least two days' travel.

The air has turned from warm and humid to crisp and clear, and she stands at the bow breathing it in. Her homeland is in sight, and a feeling of completeness moves through her as she realizes this was her destiny, even though it was never part her dream.

Warm arms encircle her waist from behind. "I thought I might find you here, My Queen." His breath is hot on her ear as he takes a small nip.

She sighs and turns in his arms, cupping his cheeks. "Are you sure this is a life you can imagine living?" Her bottom lip disappears into her mouth as she worries over the drastic change she has forced into his life.

He reaches up and grasps her hands, bringing them down between them. "Bella, I have told you; my life is with you, and this is your country. It would be wrong of me to ask that you give it up."

"But I would," she replies urgently. "I cannot bear the thought of your unhappiness. You have given up everything you have ever known to come here on a chance that we may rule."

Edward steps away and waves his arm to the land in the distance. "Your country needs you, Bella. There is no other who can lead them in the right direction. Look at it. It is a beautiful land that will now have the best queen in existence. Why would I wish to be anywhere else?"

Bella throws herself into his unsuspecting arms and wraps hers tightly around his neck. "They not only need me, Edward. They need us. I am sure of it."

Edward catches her, chuckling at her enthusiasm, and spins with her in his arms. "I love you, Bella, and wherever you are, is where I belong."

The two share a moment of glee before being scurried out of the way as the ship hands work to ready the boat for anchor. Though his wife is attempting to tamp it down, Edward can feel the excitement vibrate through her. All her hopes ride on whether the people will accept her, but they will have no choice, Edward will demand it.

Though he was not bred to be a ruler, he has spent his life under the wing of a kind and generous king, not only leading an army but also being included in all major decisions concerning Olympia. His experience is invaluable, and he intends to use it in any way he can toward the advancement of Policia, including counseling his wife when needed. Bella has something her father knew nothing about.

Strength.

Together he and Bella will lift this country to heights it has never seen. Failure is not an option for her, and he will be there with his queen for every step; both the pitfalls and triumphs.

After a short but choppy ride on a smaller vessel, they reach the dock without much trouble. Emmett and Tyler are accompanying them in their boat while the rest of the guard are already filing onto the dock.

When it is their turn, Edward stands and grips Bella's hand firmly, assisting her to her feet. When she is steady, he jumps onto the dock and lifts her at the waist. She makes a little squeak, but otherwise, the transition is as graceful as ever.

As Edward clasps her hand on his elbow, prepared to lead her to the carriage, a distant roar meets his ears. He stiffens and looks to her in alarm. "Do you hear that?"

Her step falters momentarily, but she continues forth, her head tilted, considering the strange noise. "I do. What do you think it is?"

As they move closer to the carriage, the nose grows, and it becomes discernable.

Voices.

A chant.

"Is that?" Edward's eyes jump to Bella, and he watches as her lips form the most beautiful smile. "They are chanting your name!"

Bella is overly excited as Edward carefully assists her into the carriage, and he does not complain when she insists on the window seat. The people of Policia are out in force, and they are chanting, "Is-a-bel-la, Is-a-bel-la, Is-a-bel-la."

As they ride down the brick-lined street, Bella waves at the hordes that run as far as the eye can see, lining the streets, three and four deep. They are chanting and cheering, already knowing that she has come for them; to lead them into a new future.

Their show settles some of the concerns that had plagued Edward. Though he knew that she would be accepted, he expected resistance at first, but he should have known they would love her just as he does.

Arriving at the castle gates brings an end to the large procession, but even after they are enclosed inside the castle walls, the loud chants can still be heard.

Bella sighs and turns to Edward with a large smile. "My father repressed them for so long." She turns in her seat and starts talking animatedly. "The only time they were allowed to gather was when he commanded them. There were no protests of his cruelty, and he forced their loyalty through punishment."

Edward grasps her cheek in an attempt to calm her agitation. "But you are here now, and they already love you."

She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly before reaching up to peck his lips. " _We_ are here now."

"Yes, we," Edward replies as the carriage comes to a stop. "I promise to always support and guide you when needed, Bella, but I know you are capable."

Emmett opens the carriage door, interrupting their moment, and holds out his hand to assist Isabella as she steps into her kingdom. "Here you are, My Lady," he says guiding her to the person who stands to greet her.

"Isabella," the man says tersely.

Before Bella can form a response, Edward is by her side and stepping closer to the man. "That is not how you address your queen," he says, his jaw tight with repressed anger. "You will bow before her."

"Lord Hale," Bella says hastily. "I would like you to meet my husband, Edward Masen of Seattle. Though he lacks the tact required, his assessment is correct. You should address me as your queen."

A slow smirk spreads upon Edward's face as he takes pleasure in his wife's assertiveness, something he will eagerly remember come nightfall, as he watches the man slowly sink to his knees.

"Your Majesty, forgive me," Lord Hale says. "I have known you since you were a babe, and I have forgotten my place."

Bella tilts her head in acceptance and motions for him to rise. "Have you overseen the castle since my father's departure?"

Lord Hale chuckles uncomfortably. "I have been here"—he pulls another young woman up beside him—"but it is Rosalie who has taken it upon herself to keep the castle in order."

Bella's eyes widen when they shift to the woman. "Rose?" she says in disbelief before launching herself at her friend. "I thought I would never see you again!"

Edward watches with interest as the two women reunite. He presumes from the age gap that this would be Lord Hale's daughter, but one can never be too careful in this day and age. He waits patiently for his Bella to withdraw from her hug.

She pulls Rose closer by her hand. "Husband, this is Rosalie Hale. We have been friends our entire lives." She then turns to Rose and waves over Edward. "Rose, this is Edward Masen of Seattle, my husband."

The woman's eyes widen, and her cheeks pinken as she leans closer to Bella. "He is your husband?" she whispers, her eyes flicking between them swiftly. "However did that happen?"

Bella laughs. "That is a long story, my friend, but you already know the beginning."

Rosalie's eyes glance swiftly to Edward, and when she catches him looking, her cheeks grow impossibly darker as her eyes land on the rocks beneath her feet.

 _Interesting_ , Edward thinks as he switches his gaze to his wife.

"Well, I had to tell someone," she says flippantly.

He throws his head back and laughs loudly. "Shall we go find our quarters? I think we need to rest after our journey."

Bella can tell by the tone of his voice and the leer he is giving her that sleep is the last thing on his mind, and normally she would readily agree, but not this time. No, this time, she has a country that needs to hear from her.

She steps over and takes his elbow, prompting him to begin moving. "While your offer of … _rest_ is inviting, first we must introduce ourselves to our country."

"As I said, you are more than capable," he replies with a soft sigh.

Rosalie rushes forth then, and strangely enough, Emmett is right on her heels, luggage in hand. "This way. I have already had the royal chambers prepared for you." She leads them through the castle and up the grand staircase, through a series of hallways before swinging open a set of double doors. "I had your bed moved into this room. I did not think you would want to sleep where your pig of a father had laid his head."

Emmett breaks into a loud laugh, causing three sets of eyes to land on him. He shrugs. "What? At least someone around here is not afraid to speak their mind."

"Tis true," Rose says with a shrug. "The people hated him, and are more than ready to give Isabella and her husband a chance."

Edward places his hand around Bella's waist and pulls her into his side. "That is all we ask. They will not regret it."

Rose smiles but quickly looks away from Edward's gaze. "Would you have me gather them for an announcement?" she asks, glancing back to Isabella.

Isabella nods. "Open the castle gates. I want everyone who wishes to attend to be allowed entrance to the castle grounds."

Rosalie's eyes brighten, and she curtsies, the first formal gesture to pass between the two women. "Thank you, My Lady."

As she turns to leave, Emmett drops the bags he was holding and scurries to her side. "If I may, Lady Hale," he says as he offers his elbow.

Though Rosalie turns even redder than she was earlier, she takes his arm, and the two leave the queen and her husband in peace. Both Bella and Edward watch the scene with matching expressions.

With a shake of his head, Edward turns and pulls his wife close to him. "That was interesting," he remarks, his lips already falling to the bare skin of her neck.

She tilts, allowing him, _them_ , these few minutes of respite. "I would wager that Emmett will choose to remain in Policia."

He chuckles lowly, and it vibrates against her skin. "I would not bet against you. Ever," he says with an aggressive nip. "My Queen."

Her fingers find purchase in his hair. "And what shall you be, Husband?"

"The only title that matters to me is the one you just used. Husband," he groans in her ear, "is the most important aspect of my life." After a particularly stimulating nip to her lobe, he lifts his head. "I have been the enemy of these people for many years as your father led them. Let us give them time, allow me to prove my worth, and then we will worry what my formal title shall be. For now, Sir Edward is completely appropriate."

Bella nods thoughtfully. "And my title?"

"Her Majesty, My Lady, Queen Isabella, Queen Sw—"

Her hand covers his lips to stop the words he almost uttered. "I am no longer a Swan. I will not carry the name of tyranny."

"Bella," Edward says, shaking his head. "This is the House of Swan. What would you have it called?"

"I think Masen has a nice ring to it," she replies thoughtfully.

"You are serious?" Edward asks, completely stunned that she would consider awarding his name to her home. His chest swells with love for this woman, his wife. "Are you sure?"

"Edward," she says, moving closer into his arms. "I am a Masen now. It is all I will ever be. My house should carry my name. The name of the man I have loved since I found him ... near death ... on that fateful day so long ago. The one who stole my heart, the man who shall have it forever."

He pulls her tightly to him and kisses her lips softly. "I am honored that you consider my name worthy and promise to live up to your expectations."

"From this day forward, House of Mason will be our home, and the people here will grow to love you as I have, Sir Edward Masen, now of Policia." She gives him a confident smile.

"Who would have thought my apparent death and wreck upon the shores of my sworn enemy's country would see me wed to its new queen within a year?" Edward asks as he sways them slightly, peering into shining brown eyes.

She sighs and presses her body impossibly close, her fingers brushing through the hairs at his nape. "My life was in despair, and saving you gave me somewhere else to focus. Our journey here has been long and painful at times, but I do not regret one second. This is where we were meant to end up all along."

Edward nods thoughtfully. "This is not how I imagined my life would play out, but you are right. We are meant to restore Policia to its former glory."

The chants from outside begin to build and float in through the window as the people celebrate their newfound independence.

Edward kisses her very swiftly and sighs as he grabs her hand. "Though this sharing you with the people will take some getting used to."

Bella giggles a breathy, happy sound as her husband and champion leads her to the upper balcony to make her first address as Isabella Masen, Queen of Policia.

* * *

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	38. Epilogue

**One final thanks to Fabulous Fran, the beta, for all her hard work on yet another completed fic. And also, a huge hug to Judyblue and 2browneyes for all their comments along the way.**

 ****Of course I added words after Fran had it!**

* * *

 **Roughly 5 years later …**

As Edward and Emmett escort King Carlisle and Queen Esme's carriage toward the Policia castle, a lone rider storming their way attracts his attention. His guard immediately rises, and with a motion to Emmett to stay behind, he urges Guardian ahead to meet him.

Before they get too close, Edward can tell that it is his squire, Ben, now Angela's husband, who is speeding toward him. His chest clenches.

Bella.

He whips Guardian into a frenzy, racing toward the oncoming horse faster than he has ever moved. By the time they are close, he is already calling, "Is it Bella. Is she all right?"

Ben pulls his horse to a stop and nods as Edward does the same. "It is the babe, My Lord, it is coming!"

"Stay behind with the carriage," Edward demands as he races off, spurring Guardian.

The trip is not a very long one, for he can see the castle in the distance... yet it seems to take forever. His heart is thundering inside his chest as he worries over what he will find when he arrives. They knew her time was almost upon them, but weeks were expected, and this trip has only taken the morning.

As Guardian's hoofbeats pound against the hard ground, Edward remembers this same frantic journey only twice since their arrival in Policia. The first was only months into their stay while Edward had gone into the countryside to settle a longstanding land dispute where King Charles had pitted the owners against each other. The story was legend in Policia and Edward's first opportunity to prove his worth to the people.

He succeeded in his mission, both parties pleased with the final agreement, but by the time his meeting was over, word of a protest at the castle gates had spread. He rode hard and fast, his fear mounting with each moment, but he should have known, the Queen of Policia had the situation in hand by the time he had arrived.

On the final occasion, he was only in the village when trumpets sounded from the guard tower, signaling an intruder. His heart raced as he rode the short distance to the castle gates. This time, he was thankful to find his queen in hiding and begged her to remain there as he searched for the offender. Interestingly enough, it was a knight from Charles' old guard, one who had taken part in the attack of Olympia, there to plead with the queen for forgiveness. He now is a man whom Edward commands and someone he has come to respect as a loyal knight.

Once the guards spot Edward heading their way, they open the gates and he rushes through, straight into the courtyard. Jumping off Guardian and leaving him with the closest servant, he races inside and up toward the royal chambers.

It is Angela who is pacing outside the doors. "Is she okay?" he asks frantically as he swiftly strides down the hall in her direction.

She sighs in relief at the sight of him but puts up her hands. "She is progressing swiftly. Lady Hale is with her now."

He snorts. "Now, Angela, you know better than to attempt these tactics; I will not be kept from my wife." He steps past her and straight through the door.

Customs be damned.

The groans coming from their bed call to him as he hurries to her side. "Bella, are you all right?" he asks as he drops to the floor at her bedside.

She smiles and brushes her hand down his cheek. "It is a bit uncomfortable but worth it. Are our visitors here?"

"Not quite yet, they are close, though," Edward replies, kissing the back of her hand. "Emmett and Ben are escorting them now."

"You left to race back here?" she asks incredulously, grimacing in pain. "Did you check on Anthony?"

Edward's ears pinken. "I am sorry, love, but I rushed straight to your side."

She attempts a small giggle, but it turns into a groan. "I am fine. Now go check on our son. I will send for you when it is closer to time."

Edward is reluctant to leave her side, but he also understands her need for him to reassure their son. Anthony is barely two, and his mother dotes on him constantly. It would be a rare occasion for the boy to go a whole afternoon without her attention.

He grasps her cheek tenderly. "I will leave your side, but only for our son. Send for me if _anything_ happens. I shall not miss the birth of my child." He leans up and kisses her forehead as she bears down in pain.

His eyes cut to Rose, who, with her own small bump, sits quietly on the other side of the bed. He points and says, "Make sure she is taken care of."

As Angela reenters the chambers, Edward heads off to his son's nursery. The auburn-haired boy toddles toward him as soon as he sees his father, and Edward swoops him up into his arms, cuddling him to his chest. Afterward, he places him down and follows as Anthony leads him toward a series of wooden blocks. Edward begins to build a miniature version of the castle, and Anthony takes it upon himself to destroy it. The two laugh and play until Carlisle seeks him out upon his arrival.

Edward stands when he hears the chuckle behind him. "You have made it. I apologize for racing away. I trust your journey was comfortable?"

The two children standing at Carlisle's legs peers at Edward shyly. "Our trip was fine, Edward." Carlisle waves his concern away. "The boys were hoping to play with Anthony, and I believe your wife is ready for you to join her."

Edward's eyes widen slightly, and he hurries to accommodate the four-year-old twins, Christopher and Caleb. "Right," he says and turns to their nursemaid. "Please keep an eye on the king's children as well. Someone will relieve you once the babe is born."

The nursemaid curtsies. "Yes, Your Highness."

If Edward were not so flustered, he would have reminded the maiden that such a formal title is not necessary in these circumstances, but at this moment, he is turning in circles unsure what to do next.

Carlisle steps forth and stops the nervous Edward with a soothing grip to his arm. "I will stay with the boys. Angela and the midwife are already with Isabella. Rose and Emmett have taken Lauren to the garden for a stroll so that Esme can join them. Go and be the strength your wife needs."

Edward relaxes and embraces his former king. "Thank you, Carlisle. We will catch up soon." He rushes out the room and down the few doors that separate the royal chambers the nursery.

As soon as he enters, the midwife snaps, "Wash before you approach."

This causes Edward's jaw to clench, but he quickly does as is commanded so he can hurry to his Bella's side. "My love," he says softly as he perches on the edge of the bed. "I am here."

Though she is sweaty and tired, Bella is pleased that her husband refuses to be locked from the room as is the custom. She takes his hand with what she hopes is a smile. "Husband," she breathes through short, choppy breaths. "I love you."

The afternoon carries on with his wife's pain, but in the end, it is the cries of their new babe that cleanse away the bad. The couple is passed a tiny bundle soon after Bella's final push. Edward's smile is magnified as he watches his wife pull the blanket back to check the sex.

"It is a girl," Bella says, looking to her husband.

"A princess," he replies, rewrapping the blanket around the babe. "And her name?"

It only takes Bella a moment to respond. "Elizabeth Renee Masen."

If Edward's smile could grow any further, it would; but it cannot, for he is already grinning from ear to ear. "Princess Elizabeth. Perfect," he replies, nuzzling his wife's sweaty neck.

"My Lord, you must take the babe while I attend to the rather unpleasant aspects of birth," the midwife says as she brings clean water and fresh linens to the bed. "You will be called back in when that has been completed."

Edward kisses Bella, and he and Elizabeth exit into the hall, only to find everyone loitering outside the door. Carlisle is there with the three boys, one of whom toddles toward his father, while Esme holds their own princess, Lauren. Rose and Emmett stand further down the hall in a light embrace, Emmett's large hand covering her stomach.

When they notice Edward and Elizabeth, everyone moves closer. "We have a princess," he announces with more pride than he has ever displayed, except for the last time his wife bore them a child. "Princess Elizabeth Renee Masen."

Everyone moves in to congratulate Edward and get their first look at the babe, but it is Emmett who breaks the silence. "She is very wrinkly," he says with a laugh.

Rosalie rolls her eyes. "She is beautiful."

As the couple start their own quiet conversation debating the cuteness of the new princess, Edward turns to Carlisle and asks, ""How is Alice? I am sorry they could not make the trip."

Carlisle sighs. "She is still progressing normally, though being bedridden and forced to miss the arrival of your new babe is the last thing she wished."

Esme breaks in. "It is worth it, though, and she knows this. They have lost too much already, but she has assured us this babe will live."

Hearing that, Edward's confidence grows. Alice has warned them with both of her previous pregnancies that they may not be viable, and both times she was right.

He nods. "Then it shall live."

Just then, the door opens, and the midwife appears. "You may all enter, but do not keep her long. A good rest is what is needed after the trying afternoon. The babe should nurse as soon as the visit is over."

When Edward reenters their chambers, his wife is propped up in bed, freshened and smiling. Anthony races past his father, heading straight for his mother. By the time Edward catches him, he is jumping beside the bed, attempting to climb on.

Edward chuckles and passes Elizabeth to her waiting mother and reaches for their son. "You will have to stay calm so you can meet your sister," he admonishes before lifting him to his lap.

Once the family settles, Bella focuses on the gathering in her room.

Her protectors.

Her allies.

Her family.

Because of the love and respect between two powerful Olympian men, and one overeager aunt, she was granted a reprieve. She was allowed to love a man other than the one her father gave her to so freely. Though they were his sworn enemies, the people of Olympia embraced her and lifted her, allowing her to become what she is today.

Queen of Policia.

* * *

 **Finding the right ending was hard, so I hope this is enough. Thank you to everyone for reading along, and I will definitely reply to everyone!**

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